


Bricks and Stones

by TaliskerMortem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babysitter Stiles, Kid Fic, Lots (And I Mean Lots) Of Pancakes, M/M, Single Parent Derek Hale, Slow Burn, Warning: Kate Argent, past character deaths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 04:41:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20829560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaliskerMortem/pseuds/TaliskerMortem
Summary: Houses are not homes, we're not made of bricks and stones. Home is you and me.~ Tyler Knott GregsonOR: The one in which Stiles is the Hale's new live-in childminder, the Hale children are all manner of complicated and Mr Hale himself is terribly, terribly attractive. It's a pity he's barely ever around.





	1. September

**Author's Note:**

> Okay should I be posting a new fic? No probably not. But this one has been sitting half finished in my WIP folder for far too long and given the format I wanted to start posting it in September.
> 
> Firstly, this fic is inspired by the great [Prince Among Wolves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/538425/chapters/956260) by Rawren, so if you haven't read that yet I strongly recommend it.
> 
> Secondly, this fic is being published in 'real time' over on my [tumblr](http://www.taliskermortem.tumblr.com/) (and then reblogged onto [Bricks and Stones Daily](https://bricks-and-stones-daily.tumblr.com) if you just want posts of this fic). At the end of every month, all the entries will be posted as a chapter here on Ao3.
> 
> Thirdly, I hope you all enjoy it!

**** ** _Monday 9th September 2019_ **

The sky was still tinged with the remnants of dawn when the tattered old jeep pulled up into the driveway, tires crunching on the gravel and the low rumble of the engine merging with the chorus of early morning birds. Draining the last vestiges of his coffee, Stiles braced himself for what was to come. He was supposed to have arrived last night to settle in but Erica had had an emergency that meant Stiles couldn’t leave Sacramento until the early hours of the morning. Now it was just before seven o’clock on a Monday and Stiles was about to start a new job completely sleep deprived. Leaving his empty coffee cup in the car, along with the rest of his luggage, Stiles hopped from the jeep and headed up the steps to the rather intimidating front door. Before he even had a chance to knock, the door was being swung open and the breath was ripped from Stiles’ lungs.

Before him stood the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes upon. Broad, muscular shoulders were covered by a crisp white shirt, soft hair carefully styled, a dusting of stubble covering his fine jawline and eyes so mesmerising Stiles had to blink several times so as not to get lost. It was completely unreasonable, in Stiles’ opinion, that anyone should look so put-together at this time of the morning. He had exchanged only a few sparse text messages with his new employer, most of the details being arranged through Allison herself, so he knew very little about the man now standing before him.

“Good morning,” Stiles nodded politely, resisting the urge to shove his hands in his pockets and instead holding one out for the man to shake. “I’m Stiles.”

“Derek Hale,” the man grunted in response, shaking Stiles’ hand ever so briefly. Then he turned on his heel and disappeared back into the house, leaving Stiles with no option but to follow him. The hallway was pristine, white walls and minimalist furnishings, not a touch of anything personal. Glancing into the rooms they passed, Stiles begun to get to impression that it was theme carried throughout the rest of the house. The man – Mr Hale – led him up the wide staircase and down another hallway, eventually stopping and pushing a door open.

“This will be your room,” he said, voice entirely monotonous and refusing to meet Stiles’ eye. The room, like the rest of the house, was white and Stiles was beginning to wonder if he had accidentally walked into a hospital. He said nothing though, just nodding and making a mental map for himself.

They headed back downstairs in silence, Mr Hale taking them into the kitchen and grabbing several plastic files from the table. “The children,” is all he said as he handed them to Stiles. Then he left. And Stiles was stranded in the freakishly white kitchen, in the freakishly white house wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.

Not knowing what else to do, he opened the first file, labelled ‘Rowan Hale’, pulling out several sheets of paper. It contained basic information such as name and age, which Stiles already knew, and then a timetable detailing the child’s week. Rowan was ten months old. Stiles was somewhat terrified. What kind of person had a schedule for a baby? The rest of the files were pretty much the same, the two oldest also containing a list of term dates and school information, including when they were scheduled to come home for the weekend.

Shaking his head slightly, Stiles put the files back down on the table, knowing that he was unlikely to ever open them again. Instead, he wandered over to the fridge and, spotting some blueberries, started pulling out ingredients for blueberry pancakes. He didn’t know about the rest of the household but he was starving and cooking was absolutely in his job description. A shuffling noise behind him made him break from cracking eggs and look around. A tiny little human was peaking out from the doorframe, big iridescent eyes watching him warily.

“Hello,” he smiled, crouching down and waving at her. Huge eyes stared back at him for a moment before she hesitantly removed her thumb from her mouth and waved back. “What’s your name?” he asked, despite already knowing.

“Adelaide,” she mumbled, blushing and tucking herself more firmly behind the doorframe.

“I’m Stiles,” he smiled.

“What’s a Stiles?”

“It’s my name, just like yours is Addie,” he explained. Her expression soured as she tucked a lock of chestnut-brown hair behind her ear.

“My name is Adelaide.”

“My apologies Adelaide, that’s a very pretty name.”

“I know.”

“How old are you Adelaide?” Stiles asked, hoping to keep her talking so that she might feel confident enough to actually come into the kitchen.

“Phwee,” she stated proudly, holding up three podgy little fingers. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-six,” Stiles smiled.

“That’s old,” she frowned, shoving her thumb back in her mouth and studying him thoughtfully. Stiles simply waited. “What are you doing?” she eventually asked, eyes flicking up to the countertop.

“I’m making pancakes, would you like to help?” Her brow pinched before she nodded hesitantly and finally stepped into the kitchen. Stiles helped her up onto a chair and placed the bowl of ingredients in front of her, cracking in the last few eggs before handing her a whisk and instructing her to stir. They worked quietly beside each other, Stiles rummaging through cupboards until he found a pan and heated it on the impeccably clean stove. He was beginning to doubt the kitchen had ever actually been used.

A commotion could be heard from upstairs and a few minutes later, Mr Hale had reappeared in the kitchen, this time with a child tucked under his arm. The child was older than Adelaide, with a shock of black hair and furious brown eyes. He was also clearly in the midst of having a tantrum. “Who’re you?” he spat out when he spotted Stiles.

“Manners, Luke,” Mr Hale chided, depositing the boy on a chair and shooting a surprised look at Adelaide, who was still stirring meticulously. “This is Stiles, your new babysitter,” he explained and Stiles’ eyebrows shot up. Babysitter? He was a tutor and child-minder at best. Babysitter sounded ominously juvenile.

“I don’t like him,” Luke declared, somehow managing to huff out his chest and slouch in his chair at the same time.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr Hale muttered, heading over to the coffee machine – the only thing in the kitchen that actually looked used – and giving Stiles a wide birth. Stiles pursed his lips and tried not to be offended. Instead he turned his back on his employer, getting the blueberries out of the fridge and handing them to Adelaide, who tipped a generous helping into the bowl of batter, making it splash up and a couple of droplets land on her nose. Stiles chuckled and wiped them off, noticing Mr Hale stiffen as the gesture. It was ludicrous, in a way - how could anyone be expected to look after three children aged five and under without physical contact? They would run circles around him. Besides, children needed physical contact for their development, it strengthened relationships, let them know they were loved and listened to and safe.

“Are you having breakfast?” Stiles forced himself to ask, turning back to face the man. Mr Hale merely shook his head, grabbing his coffee and downing it before depositing the mug in the sink. As soon as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of one of the chairs, Luke immediately kicked up a fuss, sliding off the chair and running to grab onto Derek’s leg, screaming that Derek was not allowed to leave. His sudden outburst upset Adelaide, whose lip started to quiver as fat tear drops begun falling down her cheeks. Stiles stared in wide eyed confusion.

“Rowan is awake,” was all Mr Hale said before disappearing out of the kitchen and a few moments later Stiles heard the front door slam shut and the sound of a car starting up. He was in way over his head. Luke had run from the kitchen and was banging on the front door, screaming and blubbering and yelling for Derek to come back. Stiles’ heart broke at the sight.

“Hey, hey,” he called out, reaching out to grab the boy’s fists before he could do any real damage to himself. “Shh, hey, it’s alright, it’s okay, your Dad will be home later, he’s just going to work, he’s coming back later, I promise,” he muttered, pulling the crying boy into his arms.

“Papa, I want my Papa,” Luke cried, struggling against Stiles’ grip.

“He’ll be home later, your Papa will come home after work,” Stiles tried to reassure him, unsure if any of his words got through to the little boy. He was bordering on hysterical, tears and snot streaming down his red face. Stiles just tried to hold him closer, providing whatever comfort he could with his warmth. Eventually the hysterics ran their course and Luke’s cries subsided as he slumped into Stiles’ hold. “Come on little man, let’s get you some pancakes, pancakes make everything better.” When Luke didn’t protest, Stiles picked him up and carried him back into the kitchen where Adelaide was still sitting on her chair, tears streaming down her face.

He helped Luke back into his own chair before wiping away Adelaide’s tears and pressing a slight kiss on her forehead. He told her that she did a wonderful job with the pancake batter and reheated the pan that he had turned off before going after Luke. Neither of the kids said a word as Stiles made them each a plate of pancakes, searching through the cupboards for some maple syrup and buttering them generously. Luke’s face lit up a little when Stiles deposited his plate in front of him and Stiles barely had time to cut the pancakes into bite size pieces before he was scarfing them down, his tears forgotten. Adelaide was more reserved, inspecting each bite before chewing on it thoughtfully and Stiles could swear he had never seen anyone so contemplative of their food before. Not even Lydia.

Whilst the kids were eating, Stiles whipped up a plated for himself, pausing to send a text to Allison asking her just what, exactly, had she gotten him into. She responded almost immediately with a kissy face emoji and Stiles found he couldn’t hold a grudge for very long. Throughout breakfast, Luke alternated between shooting Stiles suspicious glances and shoving as much pancake into his mouth as he could.

Once they had finished eating however, Stiles managed to persuade Luke to show him where his room was so that Stiles could get him dressed. Adelaide followed them upstairs, thankfully, and Stiles got them both out of their pyjamas and into day clothes. He set Luke up with some toys in his room to keep him busy whilst Stiles went in search of Rowan, Adelaide following him once more like his own personal bodyguard. Stiles pushed open the door to the baby’s room just as he started to cry, small little huffs of displeasure.

He was a tiny little thing, with huge brown eyes and hair the same, soft chestnut shade as Adelaide’s. Picking him up, Stiles inhaled the sweet and unmistakable smell of _baby_ and he grinned happily into Rowan’s tummy.

Working quickly, and glad of all his experience working in numerous nurseries, Stiles changed Rowan’s diaper and carried him downstairs so he could begin making him a bottle. Once his diaper had been changed, Rowan stopped crying and barely made a sound, just watched Stiles with soulful eyes and that strange sincerity that all babies seemed to have.

o

It did not take long before Luke tired of his toys and came back downstairs in search of entertainment. The weather was warm and sunny but still early enough not to be too hot so Stiles helped Luke and Adelaide into some shoes and herded them outside into the back yard. The house bordered onto a stretch of woodland but there was a fair sized lawn behind the house that Luke immediately took off across. Adelaide stayed closer by, thumb shoved back into her mouth as she watched her older brother. There were no children’s toys to speak of in the garden and Stiles mentally added it to his list of things he would need to purchase.

Bouncing Rowan on his hip, he encouraged Adelaide to join her brother for a game of tag, making up random rules as they went. The children relished the fresh air, their pale cheeks gaining a ruddy glow as they chased each other around the garden, hiding behind whatever obstacles they could find. Adelaide’s giggle was the sweetest thing Stiles had ever heard and Luke’s enthusiasm washed away any remnants of his earlier tantrum and tears. Rowan was the most well behaved baby Stiles had ever encountered: he did not cry, he barely moved when Stiles put him down, he burped and spat up when asked. Stiles was almost concerned. Especially by his lack of vocal communication, a ten month old should be babbling away. But Rowan was silent save for the occasional spit bubble. Stiles resolved to ask Mr Hale about it when he got back.

For lunch Stiles made them sandwiches, which Luke and Adelaide demolished after their morning’s exercise. Once they were fed, Stiles changed them back into their pyjamas for a nap, both of them out like a light as soon as their heads hit their pillows. Rowan also went down happily for a nap and for the first time since Stiles had gotten out of the jeep that morning, he could breath.

Heading downstairs, he unlocked the front door and wedged it open as he brought in his luggage from the jeep. He did not own that much but he was going to be there for the foreseeable future so he had packed up everything that belonged to him from the apartment he had shared with Erica and Lydia. Hauling it all upstairs to his new room, Stiles set about making the place feel less clinical and more homey. Adelaide appeared after about half an hour, thumb stuck in her mouth again as she climbed up onto his bed to watch him. The first thing Stiles had done was switch the stark white sheets for his much-loved blue stripped ones.

Eventually Stiles could hear Luke tumbling from his bed and got them both dressed again, heading down to the kitchen and making them an afternoon snack. Luke kept glancing hopefully towards the living room where a huge TV was just waiting to be watched. Stiles acquiesced on the condition that Luke ate all the carrot sticks Stiles had put on his plate. Luke had reluctantly agreed and Stiles let the two of them watch cartoons whilst he went upstairs to get Rowan.

o

The afternoon passed much more calmly than the morning, Luke and Adelaide moving from the TV to playing with toys Stiles had brought down from Luke’s room. Rowan amused himself in his playpen, watching his older siblings through the wooden bars as he chewed on a stuffed wolf. At five o’clock, Stiles relocated them all to the kitchen so he could prepare dinner. Rowan sat contentedly in his highchair and he had set Adelaide up on the kitchen table with some paper and crayons. Luke however had insisted on helping Stiles make dinner as Adelaide had helped make breakfast. Whilst he was glad to see that Luke’s animosity towards him from that morning had subsided, he was a little apprehensive about such a ball of energy helping him cook. In the end he found a sturdy looking plastic knife and set Luke to cutting up some peppers.

The kitchen was a chaos once they were finished, Luke had insisted he help at every step of the way and somehow got bolognaise sauce all over himself and the counter, as well as getting a little carried away after Stiles had told him about the trick to testing if spaghetti was ready and there were now several strands of spaghetti stuck to the wall above Stiles’ reach. During dinner they chattered away far more than they had at breakfast or lunch, telling Stiles about their favourite movies and the games they liked to play. Stiles tried to pry for information on their father and their normal routine but was unsuccessful, stopping as soon as Luke’s face soured and quickly changing the subject.

Mr Hale did not show up for dinner. Stiles roped Luke’s help into doing the dishes, to keep him occupied rather than to be any actual help as he ended up with a foam beard and soaked clothes. Despite the mess, he was relieved the child’s initial distain of him had vanished and he now actually seemed to _like_ Stiles.

After the majority of the dishes were washed and left out to dry, he herded the kids upstairs, Rowan on his hip again, and into the bath. Luke and Adelaide were delighted when Stiles lowered Rowan into the tub with them, carefully keeping hold of him so he didn’t slip over. They helped – a little too enthusiastically – to wash the baby, scooping handfuls of water up and over his shoulders, letting Stiles do his head. Stiles lifted Rowan back out when his knees got too sore and patted him dry, dressing him in a clean onesie covered in cartoon sheep and placing him in the baby basket he had found in his room whilst he helped Luke and Adelaide finish cleaning themselves. He had to resort to bribery to get them out of the bath though, the promise of bedtime stories luring them from their foamy playground.

Mr Hale still hadn’t shown up by the time Stiles had dried the two of them off and helped them into their pyjamas. Luke had agreed that they could read a bedtime story in Adelaide’s bed tonight on the condition that tomorrow Stiles read the story in his bed. The three of them somehow managed to cram into Adelaide’s tiny bed, the little girl on Stiles’ lap and Luke tucked under his arm. Rowan in the basket beside them.

By the time Stiles had been talked into reading them two stories, his worry that their father would not be home to say goodnight was confirmed. Luke refused to go to bed without his dad tucking him in, throwing a tantrum the minute Stiles tried to direct him back to his room. His distress set off Adelaide again, making those horrible fat tears reappear in her iridescent eyes and tug at Stiles’ heartstrings. Eventually, after a solid fifteen minutes of screaming, Stiles managed to calm Luke down enough to persuade him to go to bed with the promise that he would make Mr Hale come and say goodnight to him as soon as he got home. Luke pouted but, clearly worn out by his tantrum, nodded sulkily and climbed into his bed. Stiles stroked his hair, tucking the sheets in firmly around him and pressed a faint kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight Luke,” Stiles murmured, standing in the doorway.

“G’night Stiles,” came the grumpy but soft reply.

Adelaide was easier to calm down, Stiles pulled her into his arms for a cuddle before wiping away her tears and tucking her into bed with the same promise he made Luke, he kissed her forehead as well and she nuzzled her face into his neck before whispering _night-night_. Stiles ran his fingers over her hair before creeping from the room.

o

Tidying up the rest of the kitchen did not take as long as Stiles had anticipated and he found himself finally able to relax on the sofa, Rowan dozing on his chest. There were cracks in this family that Stiles could not even begin to decipher but he had known the moment Adelaide had corrected him when he called her Addie that there was no way he could leave them. If their father refused to be a decent parental figure and their mother was god-knows where, then Stiles would simply have to do the best he could and hope that, when the time came, he would be able to leave with at least some vestige of his heart intact.

He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew, the front door was opening and the digital clock on the DVD player was flashing midnight. Rowan was fast asleep on his chest and did not wake as Stiles shuffled them into a sitting position. If Mr Hale was surprised to find Stiles and Rowan still up in the living room, he didn’t show it. He merely nodded at them as he took off his jacket and loosened his tie, disappearing into the kitchen and rummaging around the fridge for something to stick in the microwave.

“The kids want you to kiss them goodnight,” was the first thing Stiles said to him as he hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, much like Adelaide had done that morning.

“They’re asleep,” Mr Hale frowned.

“And? I promised them you would, they weren’t too happy about going to bed without you here,” Stiles snapped, the hour too late for him to be overly concerned about being polite to his new boss. Mr Hale’s face contorted strangely before he nodded and disappeared upstairs. Stiles resisted the urge to follow him and make sure he was actually doing what Stiles had asked. When he returned, he grabbed the plate of spaghetti bolognaise that Stiles had left for him in the fridge and nodded goodnight to Stiles before disappearing upstairs again, barely sparing a glance towards his youngest child, who was still sound asleep in Stiles’ arms.

With a heavy sigh, Stiles followed him upstairs and headed towards Rowan’s room to put him to bed, thankful he didn’t wake in the process. Once he had kissed the baby goodnight, he glanced at the closed door of Mr Hale’s room before going to his own and flopping down onto the bed, barely finding the energy to kick his shoes and jeans off before falling fast asleep.

* * *

** _Tuesday 10th September 2019_ **

Stiles woke up to find big eyes staring at him from the other pillow, blues mixed with greens mixed with greys and golds. It took him a moment to reorientate himself, not fond of waking up in strange places. Adelaide was lying across from him, thumb stuck in her mouth and curious eyes fixed on his face. He wondered how long she had been there and how he had not noticed her come in – he was an exceptionally light sleeper on the best of days.

“Good morning,” he greeted her, running a hand over his face to wipe the sleep away. She climbed down from the bed and tugged at his foot, nonverbally indicating he should follow her. Stiles yawned, climbing out of bed himself and pulling on a pair of pyjama pants he had been too lazy to put on last night. She led him down to the kitchen and Stiles noticed the absence of Mr Hale’s briefcase by the front door. Had he left already?

“Pancakes?” Adelaide eventually spoke, eyes hopeful.

“Not two days in a row,” he chuckled. “How about eggy-bread?” he suggested, already pulling the ingredients from the fridge. Adelaide frowned for a moment, tilting her head in contemplation, before eventually nodding and climbing up onto her chair ready to help. He gave her a fork and cracked several eggs into a bowl, holding her hand around the fork and helping her beat the eggs together. She seemed to relish dipping the bread into the mix and he had to prevent her from poking too many holes through it by accident.

Luke came down a little later, rubbing sleep from his eyes and asking where his Papa was. Stiles found himself wanting to strangle the older man for not even saying goodbye to his kids before he left. He distracted Luke by letting him help Adelaide soak the bread slices, watching helplessly as at least two of them were torn beyond saving.

The day passed in much the same manner as the one before had done. The only notable exception was that after breakfast Luke had thrown a complete tantrum about his father, throwing his toys all over the living room and hitting out at anything that came near him – including both Stiles and Adelaide. Stiles had been forced to put him in timeout, something he seemed entirely unfamiliar with.

Mr Hale was not back in time for dinner, or for bath time, or for bedtime. Stiles ended up reading three stories in the hope that he would return and kiss his children goodnight. Once again Stiles promised he would make Mr Hale come up and say goodnight to them as soon as he got back. Adelaide’s lower lip stuck out and Stiles cuddled her until she didn’t look like she would cry any more. Luke sulked as Stiles tucked him into bed but luckily managed to avoid having another tantrum.

Stiles did not fall asleep on the sofa again, putting Rowan to bed and heading to his own room. He resisted the urge to text profanities to his boss, instead simply reminding him that Wednesdays were his day off and that he would be out of the house and to kiss the children goodnight as soon as he got home. He heard the front door open at midnight again, unable to sleep. He listened as Mr Hale crept up the stairs and the gentle groan of the children’s doors as he pushed them open to say goodnight. Even if they were fast asleep.

* * *

** _Wednesday 11th September 2019_ **

On Wednesday morning, Stiles allowed himself to sleep in for a few hours and was surprised not to wake up to Adelaide lying across from him with a thumb in her mouth. After a long shower he emerged from his room and headed to the kitchen. Peeking in to the children’s rooms in found them all empty, frowning when he noticed the lack of noise coming from downstairs. Passing Mr Hale’s study, Stiles noticed the door cracked open and could just about see the man hunched over his desk working. The soft sound of cartoons came from the living room and glancing in he spotted Luke and Adelaide curled up on the sofa still in their pyjamas. Rowan was in the playpen, chewing on his wolf again.

In the kitchen three cereal bowls and Derek’s coffee mug were soaking in the sink. Stiles quickly made himself some toast, rinsing all the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher out of habit. Sneaking into the sitting room, he said good morning to all the kids, heart melting a little when first Adelaide and then Luke demanded a hug.

Stiles spent his day exploring the local area; the Hale property was located in what was undoubtedly an affluent area of Northern California. He made notes on his phone about parks that he could take the children to, about playgrounds and petting zoos and child friendly libraries. He found himself in the mall buying children’s baking kits and fun stationary for Luke’s tutoring. He picked out some toys to encourage Rowan’s movement and speech.

By the time he arrived back at the house, it was well into the afternoon and everyone was exactly where he had left them, with only the remnants of lunch on the kitchen table suggesting that they had moved at all. With a sigh, Stiles cleared away the lunch things before going into the living room and switching off the TV. Adelaide looked pleased to see him, sliding from the sofa and tugging on his jeans until he ruffled her hair in greeting. Luke was slightly put out that the TV had been turned off but perked up when Stiles suggested they help him make dinner again.

With Rowan in his highchair Stiles set the other two to work making fajitas. He gave Luke his plastic knife and guided him to cut the peppers and tomatoes for the salsa whilst handing Adelaide a bowl to scoop avocado into. Stiles set the chicken to cook once Luke had finished chopping the ingredients, handing Adelaide a potato masher for the avocado whilst Luke helped put everything into the blender and squealed when Stiles turned it on.

Stiles did not notice Mr Hale come in at first, keeping a trained eye on Luke as he tried to help Adelaide mash the avocado and the chicken at the same time. It was only when Luke squealed again, jumping from his chair to run to his father that Stiles spotted him hovering by the doorway, surprise etched across his face.

“Luke, why don’t you tell your Papa what we’re making?” Stiles suggested.

“Fajitas!” the little boy proclaimed in delight, waving his arms around. “I made the salsa and Addie is making guc- quack- what is it called Stiles?”

“Guacamole,” Stiles chuckled, taking the chicken off the heat and setting it aside to cool down for a minute. Luke continued to tell Mr Hale in detail exactly what he had done whilst Adelaide slipped from her seat and managed to climb into her father’s lap. Once everything was in bowls and nicely laid out on the table, Stiles heated some tortillas and then the chaos began as he helped Luke and Adelaide make their own fajitas.

Stiles pulled Rowan’s highchair up to the table and the five of them tucked into their dinner – Rowan’s being pureed carrots that Stiles was spoon feeding him between bites of his own. Mr Hale barely spoke during the meal, only once to tell the children that their food was delicious, a compliment that they both basked in. The children did most of the talking, Stiles asking them the occasional question whilst making sure that they didn’t completely cover themselves in guacamole and sour cream.

Once they had all eaten to their hearts content – and Luke was complaining that his stomach was going to burst – Mr Hale offered to do the dishes. Glancing around at the mess the children had made, Stiles shrugged and nodded. It was his day off after all, he wasn’t even supposed to have made dinner in the first place. Luke immediately offered to help his father with the dishes, causing the older man’s eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Stiles chuckled, clearing the table and setting Adelaide up with some paper and crayons before disappearing to his room again to let Mr Hale have some time alone with his own children.

Stiles engrossed himself in creating a timetable for Luke’s tutoring, coming up with games and ideas to help encourage his creativity and thinking skills, some of which Adelaide would also be able to join in with. He was so engrossed, in fact, that when Adelaide pushed open his door some time later on he had to glance at the clock twice for the time to sink in.

“I’m tired?” her small voice murmured, fist rubbing sleep from her eyes. Stiles shot from his seat in fury, barely containing it as he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. He helped her brush her teeth – it was far too late for a bath and they were hardly dirty considering Stiles suspected they had done very little other than sit in front of the TV all day. Helping her into her pyjamas, he asked her to pick out a book whilst he went downstairs.

Luke was passed out on the sofa and Rowan was in the playpen, eyes wide and watchful. Stiles turned on his heel and marched towards Mr Hale’s study. Slamming open the door, he was somewhat satisfied by the way the older man jumped from his seat.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Stiles asked furiously, eyes narrowed in on Mr Hale’s… which were the same iridescent kaleidoscope of colours as Adelaide’s. But Stiles was too angry to think about that now. “It’s half past nine! Adelaide just came into my room to tell me she was tired! Unless you had forgotten it _is _actually my day off today but that aside I figured that if you were home you would at least managed to scrape up enough of a fuck to put your own children to bed!” he fumed.

Thankfully, Mr Hale had the decency to at least look somewhat ashamed and Stiles was not fired on the spot.

“Adelaide is waiting for a bedtime story if she can even stay awake long enough for it,” he snapped, turning on his heels to go back into the living room. Behind him he heard Mr Hale creep up the stairs. Luke was much heavier whilst asleep, no energetic limbs clinging to Stiles to take some of the weight off. Stiles carried him upstairs and managed to strip his clothes off and wiggle him into his pyjamas without really waking him up. His blurry eyes fluttered open just long enough to ask for his Papa.

Adelaide barely lasted through two pages of the story Mr Hale was reading to her although Stiles could tell from his vantage point in her doorway that she tried valiantly to stay awake for her father, big eyes blinking repeatedly before finally falling shut. Mr Hale slid quietly from her bed, tucking the duvet in around her before placing a hesitant kiss to her forehead. Stiles snuck in and did the same after he had pulled away, earning him another confused expression from his employer.

Stiles glared at Mr Hale until he went in and kissed Luke goodnight, equally as confused when Stiles followed him in. Luke’s eyes fluttered open again and he reached out to cling to his father’s shirt for a moment until Mr Hale ran a soothing hand over his head in the most affectionate gesture Stiles had thus far seen from him.

They headed back downstairs after that and Stiles caught Mr Hale eyeing the living room warily where Rowan was still lying in his playpen. Stiles huffed a little before offering to put Rowan to bed himself; the other man nodded but was still standing in the hallway when Stiles came back out with the baby in his arms. Gentle fingers brushed tentatively over the mop of dark hair and Rowan cooed a little at his father. Then Mr Hale yanked his hand away and disappeared back into his study before Stiles could even blink.

* * *

** _Thursday 12th September 2019_ **

Thursday started in much the same way as Tuesday had. Stiles woke up to watchful eyes, an absent briefcase, and a coffee mug in the sink. Adelaide helped him make breakfast and Luke helped him make dinner. He took them to a nearby park and watched as they chased each other around but shied away from anyone else. Rowan seemed content in the carrier on Stiles’ front, preferring to face him than the outside world.

It was not until Stiles was attempting to put the children to bed that an unfamiliar car rolled up the driveway. In the back of his mind, Stiles knew that the twins were being dropped off for the weekend (and why they were missing Friday as well he had no idea) but he had assumed Mr Hale would have picked them up. From the window in Adelaide’s room, Stiles could see the car in the driveway was a sleek silver Porsche. Definitely not the Camaro he had seen Derek put in the garage. Thankfully just having dressed the two kids in their pyjamas, Stiles set them the task of finding a bedtime story while he went downstairs.

It was hard to determine who was more startled when Stiles opened the front door – him or _Jackson_. Jackson had played lacrosse for the private school in Beacon Hills that were BHHS’s biggest rivals. Needless to say, they had never been particularly good friends, the guy had been an arrogant cheat that and had briefly dated Lydia, whom Stiles had spent a good portion of his formative years in love with.

“Stilinski?” Jackson asked incredulously. Before Stiles could respond, however, a little ball of excitement was dancing around Stiles’ legs and charging out the front door. Stiles’ heart leapt to his throat as he tried to stop Adelaide catapulting herself down the stone steps but before he could reach her, another set of arms were swing her up. The boy – Noah – smiled widely at her, tossing her in the air before snuggling his face into her tummy. Adelaide squealed in delight, far more animated that Stiles had ever seen her.

“Stilinski, this is Noah, Noah this is, uh, Stiles,” Jackson introduced them, managing to shake the shock from his face. Noah’s smile disappeared as soon as his eyes landed on Stiles and he nodded curtly, pulling Adelaide closer before he grabbed a bag from the back of the Porsche and headed inside. “And this is Talia,” Jackson added, wincing a little as a girl stepped out of the car and slammed the door unnecessarily hard behind her. She too grabbed a bag from the boot, not bothering to close it, before storming into the house, not even sparing a glance in Stiles’ direction. Fantastic.

Stiles turned back to Jackson, who shrugged a little helplessly before budging past Stiles into the house, giving no explanation of who he was in relation to Mr Hale or his children but seeming fairly confident his presence would not be an intrusion. But that could have just been Jackson’s arrogance, it was hard to tell. “I haven’t seen this place yet, it’s pretty sweet,” he commented, sticking his head first into the living room and then the kitchen. “They only moved in here a week before school started.”

“That would explain the lack of décor,” Stiles grumbled.

“Nah, that’s just Derek.”

“Would you like some tea or something? Mr Hale usually isn’t back until late,” Stiles shrugged, already pulling down the box of different teas.

“No, thanks though but I should probably get going,” Jackson said, shrugging a little again. Stiles was startled to find that he wasn’t quite as much of an asshole as he remembered him being in school. Then Jackson smirked. “Good luck,” he snorted, just as loud rock music started blaring from upstairs. Without another word, Jackson disappeared back through the front door and abandoned Stiles with all five of Mr Hale’s children.

He was going to put bleach in Allison’s shampoo.

Running up the stairs, Stiles located what he guessed was Talia’s room with ease. He tried knocking but when that produced no results he sighed before twisting the handle and pushing the door open, half surprised she had not locked or barricaded it. Talia was lying on her bed with a sketchbook out, head bobbing along to the music. While Stiles could appreciate her taste in bands, he was at a loss to understand how her eardrums were not bleeding. She didn’t look up as he came into her room, nor as he picked his way through the mess of clothes that had burst from her duffle bag. Only once he had located and switched off the stereo did she acknowledge his existence for the first time. Her expression suggested she had just bitten into a rancid lemon.

“The Cure are great, don’t get me wrong, just maybe not when your younger siblings should be going to bed,” Stiles stated firmly. She merely rolled her eyes in response. “Have you eaten?”

“Like you care.”

“Only because I’m getting paid,” Stiles snorted, which finally made her glance back up and look him in the eye.

“We stopped off for burgers.”

“Great, lights out at ten,” he grinned, shutting the door before she could protest.

Teenagers. Were. The. Worst.

Small children he could deal with – had spent years being taught how to deal with. Teenagers, however, were an entirely different ballgame. And these ones looked particularly challenging. Just in very different ways.

He found Noah in Adelaide’s room, reading her a bedtime story. Adelaide smiled and waved at Stiles when she spotted him hovering in the doorway but she looked content with her brother so Stiles let them be. Luke however was draped dramatically over his bed in fits of tears. He threw himself at Stiles the moment he walked through the bedroom door.

“Hey little man, what’s the matter?” he asked, cradling Luke’s head to his chest.

“Don’t leaf, don’t leaf,” Luke sobbed as Stiles held him, totally baffled by what had caused the little boy’s outburst.

“I’m not going anywhere buddy, I promise. You’re stuck with me,” he murmured, stroking Luke’s hair soothingly. It took a while for him to calm down but eventually Stiles managed to persuade him to pick out a bedtime story and climb in bed. Luke insisted on two stories and that Stiles stay with him until he fell asleep. Stiles was only too happy to oblige.

Mr Hale got home at one o’clock in the morning. Stiles heard him creep into the younger children’s rooms and kiss them goodnight. He heard him go into Noah’s. He heard him pause outside Talia’s. He didn’t hear the door open. He didn’t go inside. Stiles sighed and resigned himself to sleep.

* * *

** _Friday 13th September 2019_ **

Coming down into the kitchen with Adelaide on his heels, Stiles was surprised to find the absence of a coffee mug in the sink. Checking the hallway, he noticed Mr Hale’s briefcase was still there. Perhaps, for once, he was actually taking a day off to see his children. Adelaide helped him make pancakes, this time with chocolate chips because Stiles was feeling generous. Luke plodded in a little later, rubbing sleep from his eyes and demanding cuddles from Stiles. He set them up at the table and heaped their plates full of pancakes and syrup as he asked them what they wanted to do today.

Noah appeared not long after, eyeing the pancakes warily before Stiles set a plate down in front of him, after which he nodded a brief thank you and tucked in. Hearing a bit of commotion upstairs, he turned on the coffee machine and located Mr Hale’s mug of choice. He appeared not long after, holding Rowan (to Stiles faint surprise), who he dumped unceremoniously on Stiles before grabbing his coffee mug.

“Are you going to work today?” Stiles queried and was rewarded with the shake of a head. “I was thinking of taking the kids to the park…” he hedged, wondering if Mr Hale would take the hint and join them. All he got was a nod.

“Where’s Talia?” he suddenly huffed, glancing around the kitchen at the rest of his children.

“Still sleeping I guess,” Stiles said, noticing how Noah’s shoulders tensed. Mr Hale drained the rest of his coffee, dumped the mug in the sink and disappeared back out the room. Not long afterwards, Stiles could hear raised voices – Talia’s mainly – coming from upstairs. Stiles glanced at Noah who was looking intently at his empty plate. Then Talia stormed into the kitchen, scraping her chair across the tiles as she sat down and giving Stiles a sickeningly sweet and entirely insincere smile.

“Good morning everybody, I’m so terribly sorry for my atrocious manners, I do hope you can all forgive me,” she exclaimed rather dramatically, miming wiping a tear away.

“If I were you I’d worry about apoligising for that awful morning breath first,” Stiles snorted, quickly cooking her up a plate of pancakes. Talia looked faintly startled but quickly regained composure, slouching back in her seat with practiced ease. Noah, however, was choking on his orange juice.

“Thanks,” Talia managed to huff out when Stiles handed over her breakfast just as Mr Hale came back in and her face soured. The two glared at each other whilst Talia aggressively shovelled almost an entire pancake in her mouth at once. Mr Hale looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel so Stiles just handed him another cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes for himself, gesturing for him to sit. To his surprise, the older man did so without the slightest protest, ripping his gaze from his eldest daughter to stare murderously at his pancakes instead.

The rest of the morning went off without any further incidents, although there was an awkward air in the house that Stiles couldn’t quite comprehend. Luke was exceptionally clingy, refusing to leave him alone for even a moment. Adelaide had latched on to Noah entirely and the two of them spent almost the entire morning hidden upstairs in one of their rooms. Talia quickly retreated to her room and started blaring music, although Stiles noted it was a degree quieter than it had been the night before. Only Rowan remained unchanged, staring at Stiles with those soulful eyes of his whilst Stiles changed his diaper and tried to spoon feed him pureed vegetables. Mr Hale had disappeared into his study, door closed firmly behind him. In the end, Stiles spent the morning with Luke and Rowan outside in the backyard learning the names of all the plants and trees they could see.

At one point, Stiles glanced back towards the house and could have sworn he saw Mr Hale standing in one of the upstairs windows watching them. But he blinked and he was gone, so he could very well have been hallucinating it.

After a subdued lunch of bacon sandwiches – that Talia absolutely devoured – Mr Hale pulled another car from his garage, this time a Toyota mom-car, which Stiles chuckled at. He beeped the horn a couple of times before the twins (first Noah and then several minutes later Talia) appeared, bags slung over their shoulders.

“Are you guys going out for some bonding time,” Stiles smirked, half in disbelief and half confusion as he bounced Rowan on his hip as he came down the steps. He heard someone snort in the backseat of the car and a faint murmur that sounded like ‘as if’. “What time will you guys be back?”

“Sunday,” was Mr Hale’s stunted reply. “I’ll be back late, without the twins,” he huffed, looking pained at having to string so many words together.

“Uh… okay then,” he frowned. A little warning would have been nice – would he have even said anything at all if Stiles hadn’t come out to say goodbye. Mr Hale nodded, putting the car in drive. “Bye guys! See you in a few weeks, have fun at school, try not to kill anyone,” he rambled, directing that last bit towards Talia, who merely rolled her eyes at him. “Your papa is a weird one,” Stiles informed Rowan as they headed back into the house.

* * *

** _Sunday 15th September 2019 (and a few days more)_ **

And so Stiles’ time with the Hales went by. True to his word, Derek had come back late Sunday afternoon looking exhausted and had disappeared into his bedroom for the rest of the day, only emerging when Stiles sent Luke up to tell him dinner was ready. Adelaide was rather put out by the fact Noah had gone again but eventually cheered up when Stiles asked her to drawn a picture for Noah when he came back. Luke was restless, a constant ball of energy, much, Stiles now realised, like his older sister. He would demand cuddles and kisses and piggyback rides, asking Stiles to read him stories every night and refusing to go to sleep without Stiles kissing him goodnight, even on the rare occasion Derek was home to put them to bed. Rowan was happy to try new foods but still reluctant to say much or do much, which Stiles was growing more concerned about but was struggling to bring up to his boss.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of park trips and messy dinners, an eventful trip to a petting zoo that Stiles swore would be the last when he came back to the house covered in sheep shit. He started on Luke’s tutoring in earnest, Adelaide blissfully easy to keep occupied whilst he sat Luke down at the kitchen table to practice his handwriting or basic arithmetic. She was delighted to join in games too, like a treasure hunt Stiles had constructed around the garden or hopscotch that Stiles had drawn in chalk on the back patio.

Despite the tension the last time the twins were home for a weekend, Stiles found himself looking forward to having them back too.


	2. October

** _Friday 4th October_ **

The front door slammed open at half past four on Friday afternoon, long before Stiles expected either the twins or Mr Hale to be home. A few moments later, another door slammed shut upstairs. From his perch on the kitchen table, Stiles spotted Noah slinking upstairs as well. With a sigh, he stood up and he stuck his head out of the open front door to see Mr Hale still sitting in the car, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. Going back inside, Stiles started making a cup of tea.

When Mr Hale finally came into the house, Stiles handed him the cup and had to resist the urge to massage his neck. He looked utterly, utterly hopeless.

“I don’t know what to do with her,” he finally confessed, voice no more than a broken whisper.

“What happened?”

“I got a call from the school this morning just as I was heading in to work. She’s dyed her hair pink for fuck’s sake,” he cursed, rubbing a hand over his weary face. “She knows that’s against school policy – I don’t even know where she got the bloody stuff. They called me in and the principle wasted a good half an hour of my time telling me shit I already knew. She’s out of control. I honestly don’t know what to do with her anymore.” He looked on the verge of saying more but instead just shook his head, grumbling out a ‘thanks’ for the tea and disappearing into his study.

Upstairs, music started playing at an unprecedented volume.

Making another cup of tea, Stiles braved the wrath of Talia Hale and knocked on her door. When he got no response – not even the anticipated order to ‘fuck off’ – Stiles pushed open the door anyway. Talia was lying on her bed, tears pouring down her face as she cried hysterically. He didn’t think twice as he deposited the cup on her desk and pulled her into his arms.

To his surprise, Talia clung to him, fisting her hands in his t-shirt as she cried into his shoulder. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back and over her (soft pink) hair. Eventually, her cries calmed down into gentle sobs before ceasing altogether. She made no move to release him, however.

“It’s alright,” he murmured. “It’s alright.”

When she did pull away, there were black streaks of mascara down her face and her eyes were red and tired.

“We can go to the store tomorrow and get a more appropriate colour for school and then when the holidays come around we can do something fun with it again, sound good?” he suggested, reaching onto her desk for her makeup wipes and handing her one. “Personally, I don’t see what the school’s problem is but it is their dress code, so…” he said with a little shrug. Talia wiped the mascara from her face, a blush of embarrassment crawling up her neck.

“Okay,” she nodded, voice quiet and so unlike her that Stiles pulled her back in for another hug.

“I brought you some tea but it’s probably gone cold – how does hot chocolate with marshmallows sound? And maybe a crappy rom-com or something?” This time Talia did manage a chuckle.

“Sounds good.”

“Now get out of this ugly ass uniform and put some comfortable clothes on,” he instructed, taking the cold tea from her desk and ruffling her pink hair once before leaving her to change.

Back in the kitchen, Mr Hale had re-emerged and was standing by the coffee machine, staring at it like it would provide all the answers in the universe. He didn’t even notice Stiles come in at first, until he put a gentle hand on his shoulder and directed him to a seat. Stiles finished off his coffee, placing it before him before he started on hot chocolates for him and all the children.

“What am I supposed to do with her?” Mr Hale asked, looking briefly startled he had said the words aloud.

“She just wants attention, she needs to know that you’re on her side,” Stiles explained. Mr Hale’s face looked constipated. “She wants to have a relationship with you but she doesn’t know how. It’s hard when she’s at school because you aren’t there but when she comes back – you’re barely here either,” Stiles stated pointedly, well aware he might be over stepping some boundaries. Mr Hale didn’t say anything. “We’re going to drink hot chocolate and watch shitty movies for the rest of the afternoon if you want to join us,” he added, leaving the choice with him but hoping above hope that he would take it.

Talia came back downstairs a few minutes later, Rowan cradled in her arms. Stiles had yet to see those two siblings interact but the sight melted his heart. Her normally closed off and harsh features were softened and warm as she rocked her little brother, murmuring nonsense under her breath. She was like an entirely different person and Stiles was beginning to appreciate just how multifaceted she actually was. The tear tracks had disappeared from her face but there was still a redness to her eyes, she looked tired above anything. When she spotted her father in the kitchen too, she froze, tensing up a little but something in his expression made her relax again.

Stiles headed upstairs whilst she picked out a movie, bribing Noah and Adelaide downstairs with the promise of hot chocolate. Luke was already in the living room and immediately crawled into Stiles lap when he sat down. Talia took the seat beside him with Rowan on her lap, leaving Noah and Adelaide curled up on the other side of the sofa. When Mr Hale came in, much to Stiles’ surprised delight, he still looked rather constipated but took the armchair near Noah and Adelaide’s side of the sofa.

Half way through the first movie, Stiles got up and put Luke in his father’s lap (to the man’s surprise), and disappeared into the kitchen to make dinner. Stiles had just finished pulling all the ingredients out of the fridge when Luke came plodding in, informing Stiles he was not allowed to make dinner without him. They set about making mini toad-in-the-holes while the others finished the movie. Just as the end credits begun rolling, Stiles brought in dinner and told Adelaide she could pick out the next movie. Noah shot a glance at his father, obviously unsure if two movies and a TV dinner were going to be allowed. Mr Hale just shrugged, poking at his own toad-in-the-hole suspiciously with his fork.

The rest of the evening passed calmly, eerily so in a way. The twins offered to do the washing up without being asked; Adelaide and Luke went down to bed without any trouble – not that Adelaide was ever any trouble. Stiles caught Talia apologising to her father in hushed tones, for once not an ounce of defensiveness in her tone. Mr Hale just nodded, raising a hand to the back of her neck and rubbing his thumb there. Stiles noticed the way Noah’s eyebrows shot up and the way Talia visibly relaxed. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

* * *

** _Saturday 5th October_ **

Mr Hale stayed home long enough on Saturday morning to have breakfast with the children, even Talia, who had managed to drag herself from bed at a reasonable hour. Adelaide managed to sneak up onto her father’s lap after she had finished her eggs and Luke was sneaking bits of food from Stiles’ plate, which Stiles pretended not to notice. When Mr Hale got up to take some dishes to the sink, he ran a hand over Rowan’s head, making the little one bumble out a random string or noises that at once meant nothing and everything.

Stiles made him stay at home for just a little longer, grabbing Talia and taking her to a nearby store to buy some blonde hair dye. When they came back Mr Hale ran a hand over her pink hair before disappearing out the house. Rowan went down for a nap easily and Noah was helping Adelaide build a block tower so Stiles roped Luke in to help. In the end Luke just ended up sitting on the edge of the tub laughing and nattering away while Stiles put the dye carefully in Talia’s hair, taking the opportunity to ask her about her school life.

She told him she preferred to be called ‘Tal’ because Talia was her grandmother’s name. Stiles must have pulled some sort of face because she snorted and said: “I know right, I mean it’s creepy enough being named after a dead relative but my grandma is still alive! That’s so much worse!” Stiles chuckled and told her he was named after his grandfather but that name was utterly unpronounceable so he had a valid excuse to use a nickname.

He ended up trimming the ends of her hair a little and she seemed to be enjoying herself, even if she didn’t quite believe it. They chatted away and planned an afternoon trip with the rest of the children to the zoo. Adelaide refused to get her face painted unless Noah did and not being one to deprive Adelaide of anything, Noah found himself resembling a rather broody tiger to go with Adelaide’s much more cheerful lion. Tal insisted on being a beautifully coloured butterfly whilst Luke decided, after much deliberation, to be a monkey. Which Stiles found rather fitting. Stiles himself, after three pleading looks, got a wolf painted on his face, which Tal thought was absolutely hysterical for some unfathomable reason.

Mr Hale did not come home until late that night but Stiles forgave him because he had stayed so long in the morning.

* * *

** _Sunday 6th October_ **

Stiles set his alarm extra early on Sunday morning, hoping to be up before Adelaide for once so that he could FaceTime Scott for his birthday. His best friend was a freakishly early riser so he had no concerns that Scott would in fact be awake as he hit the call button on his phone, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he did so.

“Stiles,” Scott beamed when his slightly blurry picture croaked onto the screen.

“Happy Birthday buddy!” Stiles grinned back. “How does it feel to be so old?”

“You’re six months younger than me dude, I don’t think there’s all that much difference,” he rolled his eyes in a gesture Stiles was _positive _he had picked up from him over the years. They had been friends for so long though that sometimes it was hard to tell. “But it’s great, we’re going out for tacos and bowling this evening and Danny and Lydia are taking me out for breakfast in an bit.”

“I miss you, wish I could be there,” Stiles pouted. And it was true. He missed Sacramento; there was no doubt about that. It felt undeniably weird that he wasn’t there celebrating Scott’s birthday with him for the first time in _years_. It was weird that he couldn’t just barge in to the flat across the hall from his with a ridiculous birthday cake and streamers whilst Erica sang terribly off-key behind him and Lydia rolled her eyes but tugged in a laundry basket full of absurd presents. He missed Scott. He missed his flat. He missed Sacramento. But he missed it less than he thought he would have. And he suspected that the kids still asleep down the hallway from him had an awful lot to do with that.

“Well I’m coming up to see you soon dude,” Scott smiled, swivelling around in his chair. “I hope you’re scoping out all the cool places you’re going to take me, there’s a wicked bar near the hotel I’m staying in that we definitely have to check out.”

“Yeah only a couple of days right? Are you going up to see your mum afterwards?”

“Absolutely, you’re much closer to home that we are, I think she’d disown me if I went all that way and then didn’t go and see her!”

Stiles’ bedroom door creaked open and a tiny head popped around the frame.

“Hey Adelaide, did you sleep well?” Stiles smiled, patting the bed next to him for her to hop up on. “Do you want to say hello to my friend Scott? It’s his birthday today,” he angled the phone towards her as she tucked herself up against his side.

“Happy Birthday Mister Scott,” she mumbled shyly, shoving her thumb into her mouth. Stiles ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair. Scott’s face on the screen practically melted at the sight of her.

“Thank you Miss Adelaide, I hope you’re looking after Stiles for me – is he behaving himself?” he teased. Adelaide giggled and then buried her face in Stiles’ shoulder. “Looks like duty calls,” Scott grinned, “I’ll call you later if I’m still conscious.”

“Yeah – hey Lydia has my present for you okay, make sure she doesn’t forget it and have a great day bud, chat to you later!” he waved over Adelaide’s head before hanging up. “So what’s it going to be this morning then: pancakes or waffles?”

* * *

** _Monday 7th October_ **

Stiles was awoken in the early hours of the morning by Luke climbing into his bed. There were tear marks glistening on his face in the dim light of the waxing moon and Stiles quickly pulled him under the covers and into his arms. “What’s the matter?” he whispered as Luke nuzzled into his neck. “What happened?”

“Bad dream,” Luke hiccupped, pulling Stiles closer.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you now,” he promised, kissing the top of the little boy’s head. “You’re safe here.”

“Don’t leaf.”

o

They were both woken up by Adelaide several hours later, following her usual routine of waking Stiles up for breakfast. The three of them headed down stairs, Luke clinging to Stiles and demanding to be carried. Stiles hadn’t the heart to deny him. They made pancakes – their favourite – both helping mix the batter and adding blueberries until Stiles had to start fishing them out again. Mr Hale appeared, if only for a cup of coffee.

“My friend Scott is coming up from Sacramento for my day off and I’m going to go stay with him if that’s alright? I’ll put the kids to bed Tuesday evening and then be back on time for breakfast Thursday. If that’s okay?” Stiles managed to ask, trying not to burn Adelaide’s pancakes.

Mr Hale huffed an affirmative.

That afternoon, as Stiles was sitting down for dinner with the kids, the doorbell rung. It was the first time, Stiles noted, since he had been there that he had actually heard the doorbell. Which meant it wasn’t anyone he knew – unless Mr Hale had forgotten his keys, which he sincerely doubted. When he reached the door, he opened it to find a young woman he did not recognise at all.

“Hey, you must be the new babysitter, I’m Vera, Derek’s sister,” she smiled warmly. “He should have mentioned I was stopping by for the night?” she hedged when Stiles made no move to let her into the house.

“Uh, Mr Hale didn’t say anything about a sister?” Stiles frowned, not wanting to call the woman a liar but also not keen on the idea of letting a stranger into the house. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude but I honestly don’t know you and he didn’t say anything so…” She looked rather awkward all of a sudden, especially when Stiles placed himself more fully in the doorway. “I’m sure you’re exactly who you say you are but do you mind if I just call him?”

“Uh, sure, go ahead,” she smiled, stepping back as Stiles pulled his phone out.

Mr Hale picked up on the third ring, voice concerned.

“Hey boss, I was just wondering if you were expecting any visitors this evening?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“What.”

“There’s a woman here who claims she’s your sister, said you knew she was coming over… she does sort of look like you with the dashing good looks but also a little bit the serial killer vibe so I just wanted to check?” he rambled.

“Vera,” was Mr Hale’s response. “Yes, that is actually my sister.”

“Perfect,” he grinned, swinging back into the house and opening the door for the rather amused looking woman. “I’ll see you later unless she decides to fry my guts anyway.” Mr Hale hung up. “I’m Stiles, sorry about that, your brother needs to work on his communication issues.”

“I’ve been trying for years, I wouldn’t get your hopes up, but don’t worry about it, I’m glad to see you have a head on you,” she laughed, pulling off her expensive looking coat and hanging it by the door before heading straight for the kitchen. Now that he knew she was not, in fact, a serial killer, Stiles could appreciate the similarities between her and her brother. They had the same strong features, a sharp jawline and thickset brows, flawless skin and dark, soft looking hair. However, while Mr Hale shared Adelaide’s iridescent and almost multi-coloured eyes, Vera’s were a bright, piercing blue.

Adelaide smiled happily at her aunt, patting the seat beside her for her to join them; Luke, however, did not look pleased. Stiles offered her some of the pasta he and Luke had made, apologising that he would have made more if he knew she was coming. She waved him off, telling him she would eat with her brother when he got back. Stiles bit his tongue from telling her she might go rather hungry.

o

His fears were alleviated however when not an hour later, Mr Hale rolled up the drive. Using the excuse of letting him and Vera catch up, Stiles hustled the children upstairs for a bath. Luke was particularly energetic that night, roping Adelaide into some game Stiles could not begin to decipher but which involved an inordinate amount of splashing, By the time Vera came up to see what all the noise was about, Stiles was soaked through.

Vera merely laughed.

To add to Stiles’ humiliation, Mr Hale soon followed his sister upstairs. He appeared in the door way just as Stiles was standing up from where he had been crouched in front of the bathtub. Neither of the siblings actually said anything but he noticed Vera give her brother a rather strange look as Mr Hale took in Stiles’ bedraggled appearance.

Grabbing a towel, Stiles persuaded Adelaide to get out of the bath first, wrapping her up and handing her to a waiting Vera. Luke practically launched himself out of the tub when Stiles held up his towel, burrowing himself into Stiles as Stiles tried to dry him off. Apparently Luke found Stiles a better form of towel as he rubbed his face and arms into his neck and chest intently. Stiles laughed, glancing up at the Hale siblings only to see Vera looking startled before shooting her brother a concerned look which he completely ignored, his entire posture tense.

“I can put him to bed, if you like,” Vera suggested once Luke was dry. Stiles shrugged, holding him out to her but Luke let out a scream of protest, shying away from his aunt and clinging to Stiles. Vera’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her concerned expression returned. “Never mind,” she muttered, stepping back until Luke calmed down.

“Stiles put me in bed!” Luke demanded and Stiles glanced at the two Hales only to find Vera dragging Mr Hale down to corridor by his ear.

* * *

** _Tuesday 8th October_ **

Mr Hale was gone by the time Adelaide woke Stiles up for breakfast, Luke hot on her heels. The three of them ambled down to the kitchen, debating what they were going to eat for breakfast. Only when they got there, they discovered another sleepy looking Hale with a mug of coffee in one hand and the other flipping through a magazine.

“Good morning,” she smiled, waving a little with her mug.

“Morning,” Stiles responded. “Maybe you can break the deadlock – one of them wants eggs and bacon and the other wants eggy-bread, pick one.”

“How good are your pancakes?” she asked instead.

“The bestest!” Luke and Adelaide screamed in unison.

“Yes but we had them yesterday and you cannot have them two days in a row,” Stiles repeated and was rewarded by three identical pouts. He doesn’t last long. “Fine,” he sighed dramatically. “But this is _only_ because your aunt is here, okay? This is a special treat and you wont get pancakes for the rest of the week.”

As the three Hales demolished Stiles’ pancakes, he and Vera chatted about the children, Stiles explaining what he was teaching them and how they were getting along. She seemed fascinated and would occasionally slip in a question about their behaviour more generally, particularly their relationships with other people. Stiles knew she was digging for information on their father but for some reason found himself a little reluctant to share.

“I was actually hoping to go to the mall today, if you’re sticking around? I need to pick up a few essentials and some more books for Luke,” he finally hedged, not sure how long Vera was planning to stay. Luke’s ears immediately perked up and before Stiles knew it, he was tugging on his jeans, demanding to be taken to the mall with him. “That’s not how you ask politely, is it Luke?” Stiles snorted, making the five-year-old pout but step away.

“_Please_ Stiles,” he asked, squishing his hands together like he was not above begging. “Please can I come to the mall with you?”

“It’s alright,” Vera interrupted. “I can look after the little two, they need some aunty bonding time anyway, you take that little squirt with you.”

“Only if you help with the dishes,” Stiles bargained and Luke climbed back onto his chair only to grab his plate and cutlery and run towards the sink.

Just over an hour later Stiles was helping Luke out of the back of the Toyota, trying to stop him running off in excitement. The two of them headed into the mall and Stiles was immediately dragged towards the Disney store. They perused the shop and Stiles made mental notes of potential gifts for any upcoming birthdays or holidays. Stiles helped him pick out several books before heading for the grocery store to pick up some ingredient for muffins that the kids could help him make.

As they were wandering down the candy aisle, Luke squirming in the slightly too small trolley seat, Stiles suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure.

“Scott!” he yelled gleefully, steering the trolley in his best friend’s direction.

The figure turned and grinned back at him. “Stiles!”

“What are you doing here, I thought you didn’t get in until later? Have you checked into your hotel yet? I think I might be able to get off work earlier because Mr Hale’s sister is staying…” he rambled as he dodged an unimpressed pregnant lady in his haste to get to his friend. Abandoning the trolley to hug Scott, Stiles was startled by the piercing shriek that came from behind him.

Protective instinct instantly kicked in as he scanned the aisle for any sign of danger, spinning around towards Luke like he would defend him with his very body if need be. The pregnant lady was gone. And there was no one else in the aisle.

“Uh… Stiles,” Scott said, strangely uncertain. Turning back, he noticed his friend had stepped back several meters and was looking at the trolley in concern. Following his gaze, Stiles saw Luke struggling in the trolley, trying to get out, his face blotchy and red and his eyes flashing gold.

Stiles instinctively reached for Luke, pulling him out the trolley and into his arms, without a second thought. Luke buried his face in Stiles’ neck, inhaling in stuttering breaths; sharp nails digging into his shirt and scratching his skin. “Maybe you should back off some more,” Stiles muttered to Scott, who looked confused but did as Stiles suggested. He tried to calm Luke down, swaying him a little and whispering into his hair but the little boy was still struggling, little growls emanating from him every now and then, his nails still little pinpricks on Stiles’ skin. “Scott, bud, I’ll call you later, I’ve got to go,” he shouted over his shoulder as he abandoned his trolley and carried Luke from the store.

Once out of the grocery store, Stiles practically ran through the mall and towards the car, Luke whimpering in his arms the whole way. When they reached the car, Stiles pulled open the door on the passenger side and jumped into the seat, keeping Luke cradled against his front and gently stroking his hair. Tears were streaming down the little boy’s face, his pudgy fingers fisted into the material of Stiles’ t-shirt as he clung to him, the telltale pricks of claws digging into Stiles’ chest.

“Mine,” Luke sobbed, rubbing his face against Stiles’ neck possessively. “Mine,” he repeated, over and over like a mantra as he scented Stiles thoroughly. It came out slightly funny, the word having to wrap around the enlarged teeth in Luke’s mouth.

Because of course Stiles was babysitting werewolf children.

“It’s okay buddy, it’s okay,” he muttered into Luke’s hair, stroking his back soothingly until Luke’s sobs eventually subsided. With Luke still on his lap but no longer crying, just hefting out the occasional pitiful sigh, Stiles reached into his pocket and wiggled out his phone, dialling his boss.

“What’s wrong?” Mr Hale answered.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Stiles lied and then hoped stupidly that his heartbeat couldn’t be heard through the phone connection because if this kid was a werewolf then there was a good chance his father was too. And really Stiles should have seen that coming much sooner. “Okay, so there is a little issue – please don’t panic but you should probably come home right about now,” Stiles sighed. On the other end of the line Mr Hale naturally made a panicked noise and hung up the phone.

Stiles rolled his eyes and dropped his phone into the cup holder before nudging Luke.

“Hey little man,” he whispered. “You okay?” He got a soft nod in response. “I’ve got to get you home buddy, you think you can sit in your seat whilst I drive us home?” A shake of the head. “Come on buddy, I know you can do it. I’m not going anywhere, we’ll be in the same car and when we get home you can have all the cuddles you want.”

It took a while but eventually Stiles managed to coax Luke into his car seat so he could drive them both back to the house. As he pulled up the drive way he spotted Mr Hale’s car already there with the man himself pacing about in front of it, eyes fixed on Stiles’ jeep. Vera was standing in the doorway with Adelaide on her hip watching him in confusion. Stiles barely had time to put the car into park before Mr Hale was yanking open the door and running his hands all over Luke, checking for any sign of injury. Stiles hopped out and was suddenly up close and personal with his boss as Mr Hale started checking him all over too, gentle hands running up and down his arms and over his shoulders.

“Hey Mr Hale, Derek, dude, I’m fine,” he huffed, a little startled. This was without a doubt the most Mr Hale had ever touched Stiles. “You on the other hand are a massive fucking idiot who is seriously lucky that my best friend is a werewolf or else things might have gotten seriously messy back at the mall,” he snorted. Mr Hale froze. Luke started blubbering. “We dumped into Scott in the grocery store, he must have gotten here early,” Stiles shrugged, leaning into the car to unbuckle Luke. “He came in to hug me, scent mark me probably, it’s been a while since I’ve seen him and he’s a very touchy-feely kind of guy but whatever, suddenly Luke is making this ear-splitting scream and I turn around and his freaking eyes are flashing gold and these tiny little fangs are pointing through and he was _distraught_, Derek.” Stiles pulled Luke out of the car and into a cuddle before his cries could get any louder. Beside him Mr Hale looked utterly stunned. “So obviously I grabbed him and ran, took him a good ten minutes to calm down in the car, didn’t want to let me go. God imagine if I _didn’t know_, it would have been an utter disaster!”

“He was already shifting?” Vera asked, having come a little closer but still standing a few meters away. Stiles nodded, ruffling Luke’s hair. “Wolves don’t usually start showing signs of shifting until they’re at least seven, I doubt anyone even thought it would be an issue,” she frowned.

“You’re part of another pack,” Mr Hale interrupted with a non sequitur.

“Uh, yeah? Back in Sacramento, we’re obviously not all wolves but yeah, we’re basically a pack.”

Mr Hale’s perpetual frown deepened.

“Hey little man, do you want to give your Papa cuddles?” Stiles asked Luke, if only to distract himself from the expression on his boss’s face. Luke shook his head vehemently, fists tightening in Stiles t-shirt as he burrowed his head more firmly into his neck.

Vera stepped closer.

Luke growled.

“I think perhaps I should be going,” Vera sighed. “Derek,” she barked and her brother snapped out of his thoughts and followed her inside, Stiles watched as she started whispering at him angrily before they disappeared.

Stiles sighed, snuggled Luke impossibly closer, and followed them inside.

* * *

** _Wednesday 9th October_ **

Stiles woke the following morning with a Luke shaped limpet on his front. Luke had refused to let go of Stiles the whole day and had thrown a tantrum when Stiles suggested he sleep in his own bed. Mr Hale had merely shrugged helplessly when Stiles had asked if it was all right if he spent the night with him. Now he was still fast asleep and Adelaide had not yet come in to wake them up for breakfast.

Reaching over to the nightstand, Stiles grabbed his phone and pulled up his best friend’s number. Scott answered on the third ring, no doubt already up and about like the freakishly early bird that he was.

“Hey Stiles!”

“Hey bud, I’m so sorry about yesterday.”

“What? Don’t worry about it, I figured you probably needed to sort some shit out, yeah? How’s the little fella?”

“Luke’s fine, very clingy, hasn’t let go of me since pretty much. Apparently young wolves don’t normally show any signs of shifting until they’re a few years older so no one thought to warn me. Bloody lucky they were that I was in the know already,” he chuckled slightly.

“So you didn’t know they were wolves? Oh good, man I thought you had joined some new pack and not told us for a second there.”

“Had no idea,” Stiles laughed. “Haven’t really spoken to the boss about it either. Was a bit preoccupied with Luke. Look man, I’m really sorry but I don’t think I can meet with you today, I don’t want to upset Luke and I just don’t think he could handle me disappearing and coming back smelling like another wolf right now. He’s just a kid, he doesn’t understand what he’s feeling and he can’t control it.”

“Dude, I get it, totally, don’t want to upset the little kid any more than we have to, right?” Scott said, as understanding as Stiles had expected him to be. “I can just go up and suppose my mum a day early. But I just want to make sure _you’re_ alright? Must’ve been a bit of a shock and you know how intense wolves can get about the people around them. The kid was threatened by me, means he thinks you’re his pack dude. I just want you to be careful, I know how you get. You don’t let people in easy but when you do you’re _all_ in. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know man, I know,” Stiles sighed. Because he did know. He was just trying to ignore it. “I’ll figure it out. I promise. I’m fine.”

Eventually, after a little more reassurance from Stiles, Scott hung up the phone and left Stiles with a still sleeping Luke and a head full of questions. Adelaide rescued him by peering around the door and from there the day progressed like many others, only with Luke permanently clinging to his t-shirt.

As it was a Wednesday and technically Stiles’ day off, Mr Hale was at home. He spent the day looking a little lost as he watched Luke refuse to let go of Stiles and Stiles was completely unsure how to rectify the situation. His first priority, however, was Luke’s comfort and the kid was clearly needing reassurance that Stiles wasn’t going anywhere so for one day, Stiles figured, he would just let it be.

The afternoon found Stiles slouched on the sofa with Luke napping on his chest, muttering incoherently in his sleep. When Mr Hale stuck his head into the room to check on them, Stiles beckoned him over, gesturing to the nearby armchair and pinning him with a look that suggested there would be dire consequences if he walked away.

“We should probably talk,” Stiles started, softly, like he wasn’t stating the obvious.

“You know about wolves.”

“I do.”

“You’re part of another pack.”

“I am… But I actually meant about _your _pack. For instance, I’m assuming you’re a wolf but are the twins wolves too?”

“Tal is a wolf, Noah isn’t.”

“Right… and is this your pack?” he asked, gesturing around the house vaguely.

“My family is my pack.”

“And by family you mean…?”

“My extended family. My mother is the alpha; we have a large pack.”

“But they don’t live near here.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I used to live nearer to them but I- I needed to move away. Just for a bit. Needed a fresh start. Hence this house… And you.”

“So on full moons?”

“I take Tal up to my parents’ house.”

“Jackson?”

“Is a wolf. My cousin.”

“Fucking of _course_ he is,” Stiles grumbled. He had always suspected Jackson was a dirty cheat.

“If I had known you were part of another pack I would never have hired you,” Mr Hale said in the longest string of words Stiles had heard him utter without prompting. For a moment Stiles was offended but then he let reality sink in – packs were possessive and willingly taking in someone who belonged to another pack could serious upset the dynamics of both packs.

“If I’d known you were a wolf there’s a few things I probably would have done differently as well,” Stiles confessed, absentmindedly drawing shapes on Luke’s back. “But neither of us knew so we can’t exactly blame anyone, right?”

“I should have known,” Mr Hale practically snarled and once again Stiles was momentarily offended until he realised that his aggression was aimed towards himself, rather than anyone else. There was a haunted look on the other man’s face, eyes vacant and terrified.

“No. No you really shouldn’t have,” Stiles shook his head vehemently. “Look when I was in Sacramento there were a few other packs around – some friendly, some not so much. One of the friendlier ones had an emissary who for some bizarre reason saw something in me. She kinda took me under her wing, taught me a few tricks and whatever. But one of those tricks was how to mask my scent. Walking around smelling like a pack of wolves in Sacramento is kinda risky when you’re only a puny human so I took to always masking my scent, it was habit and especially when I was going somewhere new – like, say moving all the way up here to start a new job. I masked any scent of the wolves and the rest of the pack. I didn’t want to accidentally upset anyone by trespassing on territory stinking of other wolves – I didn’t for a moment think that my _new employer_ would be a wolf, I wasn’t trying to be dishonest, or disguising myself or anything. I just didn’t want to accidentally start anything. Trust me, if you knew me in high school you would definite understand my caution – trouble kinda followed me around for a while.”

Mr Hale was silent as he took in Stiles’ word-vomit.

“Look, what I’m trying to say is that this whole situation – it isn’t anybody’s fault. There’s no point blaming anyone for it, we just have to try and make the best of it. For Luke in particular,” Stiles finished when it looked like Mr Hale couldn’t figure out what to say. On his chest, the little wolf began to stir.

“He’s attached to you,” Mr Hale stated as if that wasn’t glaringly obvious.

“I know,” sighed Stiles.

“Mmm hungry,” Luke murmured, nuzzling into Stiles neck.

“You want to help me make dinner?” Stiles asked and Luke nodded his head enthusiastically, still not quite awake. “You’re going to have to let go of me then, you can only help if you walk to the kitchen yourself,” Stiles negotiated. Luke tilted his head up to pout at Stiles.

“In a minute,” he muttered, snuggling back down into Stiles shirt.

Stiles turned his head back to his boss, who just looked completely lost as he looked at his son.

* * *

** _Sunday 13th October_ **

Now that Stiles knew that half the people he was living with were in actual fact werewolves, certain things begun to make more sense. The fact that all the soaps in the house were unscented, the fact that there was always some form of red meat in the fridge, the fact that so many of the rooms were soundproofed in some way. Most of it Stiles simply hadn’t noticed because it was no different to when he had lived in Sacramento. The rest he had just shrugged off as his employer’s personality and taste. Luke’s unending energy also made a lot more sense now. Especially with the moon growing fuller and fuller each night.

The fact that Tal and Noah appeared again on Friday, even though it was normally a fortnight between their visits also made a lot more sense when Stiles realised that the full moon was that Sunday.

So after an excitable lunch, Stiles had helped Mr Hale get Luke in the car and waved goodbye as he, Luke and Tal had driven off to his parents’ house. The house was rather quiet after that. Noah and Addie had retreated to his bedroom and Rowan had gone down for a nap and Stiles was left a little lost.

o

At seven o’clock in the evening, Stiles got a phone call.

“I’m coming back home,” Mr Hale huffed into his ear, sounding fairly unimpressed.

“Uh, hi?” was Stiles’ response. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m giving the phone to Luke- could you please just _talk_ to him?”

Stiles heartbeat increased with worry as the sound of fumbling fizzled over the receiver. Then the sound of sobbing fills his ears and his heart clenches painfully in his chest. “Luke?” he asked. “Luke, buddy, it’s me, it’s Stiles…” Hiccupping is all the response he gets. “Luke can you take a deep breath for me… that’s it. How are you doing, buddy?”

“Stiles,” Luke managed to whimper and it was so pitiful Stiles was half tempted to grab the keys to the Camaro that was still in the garage and drive to meet them. “Miss you,” he says and breaks Stiles’ heart.

For the next hour, Stiles and Luke muttered on the phone, the latter doing most of the talking whilst trying to distract the little boy from his distress. The first full moon for a tiny little wolf must be traumatising. By the time they are pulling up in the driveway, Stiles was flinging open the door and running out to meet them. Luke was already in Mr Hale’s arms when he reached them, thrashing wildly and wailing. When he saw Stiles he stilled before screaming and reaching out for him desperately. Hauling the crying child into his own arms, mindless of the flashing eyes, or visible claws, Stiles sagged with relief.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into Luke’s hair. “It’s okay, I’m right here.” Luke buried his face in Stiles neck, heaving deep breathes like he could finally breath again. He’s not calm, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s not quite as distraught as he had been a few moments beforehand. It took Stiles a good few minutes of rocking and whispering to Luke before he glanced up. Mr Hale and Tal were both staring at them, the later startled, the former utterly heartbroken.

“We should go inside,” Stiles suggested because standing out there in the cold wasn’t going to help anyone. Tal nodded, coming between Stiles and her father and running a soothing hand over Luke’s back, catching on Stiles’ arm as well. Stiles didn’t say anything, just followed her into the house.

Noah and Addie were standing the doorway waiting for them, both confused and a little unsettled by Luke’s obvious distress.

“Come on,” Tal muttered, tugging Noah’s shirt. “We’re building a fort.”

Behind them, Mr Hale had not moved.

“Come inside,” Stiles sighed. “Please,” he tried when the wolf made no indication of doing anything other than staring at the house like his world was crumbling. Eventually he shook himself, eyes downcast and walked slowly towards the house. Stiles headed into the living room where Tal and Noah were rearranging the furniture and sunk into the armchair to watch them, all the while running his fingers through Luke’s hair and whispering soothingly in his ear.

When Tal declared their fort ready – and it really was a _fort_, taking up almost the entire living room – and Noah had come in with a tray of hot-chocolate and cookies, they crawled into it.

“Go and get Rowan,” Stiles told his boss. Mr Hale looked puzzled, then glanced at the fort and looked alarmed and then back and Stiles and looked resigned. Whilst he was gone, Stiles managed to wiggle his way into the fort as well, even with Luke latched onto his front like a limpet. “A pretty decent attempt,” he commented, glancing around the inside of the structure. Tal pulled a face at him and he wondered at her control. Not even her eyes were flashing.

It was a tight fit, when Mr Hale returned. Noah and Addie had demolished their hot chocolates in record speed and were now lying on their backs, using Tal’s leg as a cushion, Tal herself had pried Rowan from her father’s grip and was pulling faces at him, Mr Hale was hunched over his mug, not looking at anyone, and Stiles was still cuddling Luke closely.

Eventually, the chatter drifted off and everyone ended up horizontal. Tal had made a pillow cot for Rowan and was singing softly under her breath to him. Stiles had made sure to lie down next to Mr Hale, close enough that Luke knew he was there. The horrible tension between them cracked as Luke reached out and fisted his chubby fingers in his father’s t-shirt as he snuggled further in to Stiles. When Stiles cracked open his eyes, Mr Hale’s face was illuminated in the dim light and he looked like he was about to cry. Stiles closed them again and left him to it.

* * *

** _Monday 14th October_ **

When he woke up the next morning, Stiles had been surrounded by a cocoon of Hales. Each one of them, werewolf or human, was completely out to the world, faces smushed into pillows or each other’s limbs. His left arm was dead from where Luke was sleeping on it and his neck would definitely be sore for the rest of the day thanks to the awkward angle of his cushion. Despite that, there was a warm and tingling feeling in his chest as he gazed sleepily at the bodies around him. The night before had been filled with panic and distress and misery but somehow this whole family had rallied around each other, even when it wasn’t clear what the best solution was. Being close was the most important thing, so Tal and Noah had built a fort and Addie had brought in cushions and blankets and Mr Hale had got on his knees and crawled into the ridiculous space. All to help a distraught Luke and to comfort each other. Things weren’t always plain sailing with this family but Stiles could see so very clearly, just how much they loved each other.

Picking up a gurgling Rowan from his little pillow crib, Stiles managed to squirm his way out of the fort without waking anyone else up. The twins wouldn’t be going back to school until the evening – and quite how Mr Hale got away with so many unexplained absences he had no idea – so there was no rush to disturb anyone. Heading into the kitchen, he put Rowan in his highchair before going about cleaning up the mess from last night that he had been too busy worrying about Luke to deal with. Once that was done, he rummaged through the fridge and it wasn’t long before the smell of eggs and bacon lured the other Hales into consciousness and into the kitchen.

Luke was the first to appear, eagerly reaching out for the whisk when he saw Stiles was also making pancake batter. When Mr Hale appeared, Stiles handed him Rowan’s breakfast wordlessly and the other man obediently slumped on the table and started feeding his youngest. Rowan let out a might squeal and grinned that delighted grin that made Stiles go all wobbly inside. The rest of the kids came in in drips and drabs, rubbing sleep from the eyes and murmuring quiet _good mornings_. Tal even came up behind Stiles to peer over his shoulder to inspect the eggs, running her knuckles absentmindedly down over his shoulder blade. Stiles ignored it and sighed with relief when she went over and did the same to her father.

He gave Luke the honour of bringing everyone their plates and grinned when Luke carried his own plate over to Mr Hale and demanded he be allowed to sit in his lap for breakfast. For a moment, Stiles thought Mr Hale was going to cry into his eggs and bacon but he pulled himself together, making room for Luke and hesitantly pressing his nose into his son’s hair when he was comfortable.

Stiles’ heart ached with affection.

* * *

** _Wednesday 16th October_ **

On Wednesday, Mr Hale came home early from work. Stiles had just put the kids in front of the TV to relax for a while after their dinner and was somewhat startled to find his boss lurking in the doorway when he turned around. Mr Hale had smiled when he caught his eye before coming in and hugging each of his children hello.

“Could you come to my study for a minute,” he said to Stiles, no infliction of a question in sight. In that split second, Stiles felt like a schoolboy all over again being summoned to talk to the head teacher for whatever crime against the board he had committed that day. Nodding and shuffling out from underneath his blanket of small children, he followed Mr Hale out of the living room.

He knew they had to talk properly about what had happened over the last couple of weeks but that didn’t quell the swell of worry that coursed through him as he stepped into the other man’s study. It was a cosy room, cosier than Stiles had expected, especially with most of the house so minimalistic. There were books lining the walls and papers strewn across the desk, pictures of the kids propped up in random places and a few bits of questionable artwork thrown in with them. It was a room well used, which was more than he could say for some places in this house.

“How was work?” Stiles asked when Mr Hale pulled the sort of expression that suggested he was seriously constipated. Stiles had pinned it down as his _I don’t know how to begin this conversation because words are hard _look. He was growing increasingly familiar with it.

“Dull,” Mr Hale shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about work.”

“No, you want to talk about Luke,” Stiles helped him out.

“He’s attached to you,” he said, echoing the end of their conversation from last week. “He’s _very _attached.”

“Yes, I know.”

“He’s been scent marking you – and he’s not the only one,” he added, still looking pained but now it was more his _I am feeling things that I do not know how to process_face.

“I know,” Stiles sighed. “I didn’t notice it at first, I swear or I would have tried to stop it or talked to you about it but I didn’t even know you guys were wolves so I wasn’t looking out for it and my pack is very touchy-feely so I’m used to a lot of physical affection so I just didn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary. I only really realised the other day after the full moon,” he confessed. “I don’t… I don’t know how to get them to stop without upsetting them.”

“Do you want them to stop?” Mr Hale asked and this expression Stiles couldn’t read at all.

“I don’t know how to answer that.”

“Honestly.”

“No. No I don’t really want them to stop but I also know that they probably shouldn’t be doing it and I don’t want to upset you or anyone else in your pack by allowing them to continue doing it.”

“But you’re part of another pack,” Mr Hale frowned. “Allowing my children to scent mark you might upset your alpha – they’re practically claiming you as part of _our_ pack instead by doing it.”

“I haven’t got an alpha,” Stiles said, moving from where he had been stood by the door to slump onto the desk beside Mr Hale, who looked decidedly confused. “My pack – we’re pretty unorthodox. Scott and I have been friends since we were kids and in school we befriended Erica, the three of us all ended up going to the same university as well as two other kids from our school – Lydia and Danny. Me and Danny became pretty good friends and I dated Lydia for a bit and Scott started dating Kira and the six of us just became really close. I don’t know if you remember but there was a bunch of attacks by a rouge wolf in the Sacramento area about five years ago? Well that wolf bit Lydia, Erica and Scott when they were out hiking – Lydia became a banshee and the other two turned into wolves. Those few weeks are pretty hazy to me, to be honest, so much happened but basically Kira turned out to be a Kitsune and her and her mum really helped us out. We kind of became our own little pack after that, didn’t see the point in risking trying to find another pack to join when we were pretty happy as we were.”

“But you don’t have a alpha?” he frowned, entirely perplexed by the notion. “How do the wolves cope?”

“Well I’m not going to lie the first few full moons were pretty terrible and I would never like to repeat those experiences ever again in my entire life,” Stiles chuckled. “But after that it was manageable – think about Luke, your mother is his alpha, right? But that didn’t help him much, did it? Sometimes you need people you’re close to more than you need some supernatural connection… I don’t know, _I’m_ not a wolf.”

Stiles watched as Mr Hale’s face went through a series of complex motions, so of which he could pick out (confusion, relief, surprise) and some he couldn’t. “Okay, well I guess you not having an alpha makes things a bit simpler but the wolves in your pack might still be a bit put off by my kids scent marking you.”

“I don’t think they’ll mind too much, not if I explain.”

“Still… I just… If this is too much-” Mr Hale swallowed. “If this is too much for you – my kids being so attached, us being werewolves, all of it – if it’s too much then you should leave now.”

Stiles stomach dropped.

“You have become a hugely important figure in my children’s lives – not just Luke but all of them, and more so than me in a some ways,” he shook his head when Stiles looked like he wanted to argue. “If you leave they will be devastated but it is much better that it happen now and not further down the line when they have become even more attached and used to you in their lives.”

Mr Hale heaved a deep breath.

“But if you stay,” he said, avoiding Stiles’ eye. “If you stay you don’t have to become a part of our pack, of the Hale pack… but you have to be in it for the long run, as more than just a child-minder or tutor or whatever your job description is. You don’t have to be a part of the pack but you do need to be a close ally to it. My kids- my kids have lost enough. If you stay you have to stay for good. You’ll be in it for life. And I know that is a big ask, a ridiculous commitment, but it’s the truth. Wolves become attached quicker and stronger than humans but even my human kids – they can’t loose anyone else. So if they are going to loose you it has to be now, quick and clean before loosing you would be something they might not recover from.”

Mr Hale exhaled. Stiles inhaled.

“I should- I should think about this,” Stiles said because that was the reasonable response.

“Twenty-four hours,” Mr Hale sighed, already looking resigned.

“Fuck,” Stiles cursed. “I should _really_ think about this but there is just no way I could leave those kids behind. They are just as important to me as I am to them, I swear. I just- Please. I can’t- I _won’t_ leave them. When I took this job I don’t know what I was expecting but it’s been a month and those kids have wormed their way under my skin and straight into my heart. I’m not… I’m not always _good_ with people. I often don’t click with them or connected to them but when I do – Scott warned me not to get too attached, he told me a job as immersive as this was a bad idea because I might not usually click with people but when I do, when I get attached that’s it. There is no going back. And I ignored him because I was so sure of myself and my ability to be professional because I’ve worked in schools before and had child-minding gigs before and I never got unreasonably attached to any of them. But _your kids_? I just – please don’t make me leave them,” Stiles rushed out in a panic.

Mr Hale blinked. Then he smiled. A little hopeful.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Stiles replied. “Good. Thanks.”

“You should probably talk to your pack about this though.”

“I will, I promise. And just because I’m staying doesn’t mean that we don’t still have to work on Luke’s separation anxiety,” he added and Mr Hale’s face fell. “And you have to be here more, you have to be there for your kids. I know how important physical contact is for wolves, let alone for tiny ones, and you need to work on that, okay?”

“I know, I’ll try.”

“Okay, so this has been a very stressful meeting and I’m pretty sure I can hear the end credits of their movie so I’m going to go, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Goodbye, Mr Hale,” he saluted as he made for the door again.

“For god’s sake, if you’re going to be a permanent fixture in our lives I think you can just call me Derek,” Mr Hale – _Derek_ chuckled and Stiles wanted to burst.

* * *

** _Saturday 26th October_ **

“Hello,” Stiles smooched, “hello little man,” he repeated, shoving his face into Rowan’s tummy and making ridiculous noises. “Do you like that? Do you think that’s funny?” he asked after his antics were rewarded with a delighted squeal. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Stiles, Stiles!” Luke’s screech pulled his attention from the baby in his arms. “Look what I found!” he proudly held up an earthworm for Stiles’ inspection. “Her name is ‘Punzel, like the princess!”

“That- uh, that’s a very beautiful worm you’ve got there, bud.”

“Can I take her home?”

“I-uh… She has all her family and friends here, you don’t want to take her away from them, do you? Nuh-uh, that would be like some big alien man coming in a carrying _you_ off to a whole new planet! And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“But… but she’s my ‘Punzel,” Luke murmured, looking unfairly devastated.

“And she’ll always be your ‘Punzel but you don’t want to take her away from her family, do you?”

“No, I guess not… I would be sad if someone took me away from you,” Luke acquiesced, still looking rather downtrodden but then ‘Punzel wriggled in his hands and he beamed once more. “Look, look, she’s moving!”

“Gah!” Rowan waved his podgy fists in the air, Luke’s excitement apparently contagious.

It was still relatively warm for October and Stiles had taken the three little ones to the park to let Mr Hale – _Derek_ – get some work done, as his boss had decided to work from home for once over the weekend. But the clouds were gathering above them now and Stiles wanted to avoid getting stuck in a downpour with three children, one of which adored puddles and mud and all things messy.

o

Pulling up in the driveway, Stiles was surprised to note an unfamiliar black jeep parked in front of the house. Derek hadn’t mentioned anything about visitors but communication, experience had taught him, was not his bosses strong point. Trying to keep the kids in check so they didn’t go running in and disturbing Derek’s visitor was no easy task but somehow he managed it, with Luke’s hand firmly in his. Heading into the house, he hesitantly stuck his head into the kitchen where he could hear disjointed voices.

“Stiles!” Allison grinned as soon as he rounded the corner.

“Aly! What are you doing here?” he laughed, letting go of Luke and hoisting Rowan more firmly onto his hip so he could cross the kitchen and hug is friend.

“Laura wanted to pester Derek, so me and Vera joined her,” Allison explained, gesturing behind him to the two other women in the room who were leaning against the counter with large wine glasses in their hands. Derek was also there, slouched in his seat at the table and glaring at them all.

“Vera,” Stiles smiled. “Nice to see you again… And you must be Laura,” he added, turning to the only person he had not yet met. And wow that was quite the intimidating woman.

“And you must be Stiles,” she said, making no move to approach him.

“Papa!” Rowan chose that moment to yell out, reaching his arms out for Derek.

The impact of that one word was tangible in the suddenly silent air of the kitchen. For a moment no one moved; no one even dared breath. Then Laura’s cool and calm façade broke away as she beamed, moving over to sweep Rowan from Stiles’ arms and twirl him through the air. Stiles shot a questioning glance at Allison who raised an eyebrow but her attention was quickly refocused on the little one as he started babbling away to his aunt.

“How long has been in talking?” she asked him quietly. Not that it made any difference in a room full of wolves.

“It’s really picked up over the last couple of weeks,” Stiles shrugged, feigning nonchalance. Rowan’s silence had been one of his more pressing concerns when he had started working with the Hales and he was utterly relieved by the progress they had made. “Mostly just babble but _Papa_ is becoming more frequent – and mostly it’s actually directed at Derek,” he chuckled, recalling when Rowan had excitedly reach out and shouted _Papa_ at his favourite stuff bear the night before. “_Yum_ is also getting pretty popular as well.”

“He must have learned that one from Luke,” Allison laughed.

“Papa!” Rowan yelled again, squealing happily and basking in the attention. Laura looked like she was about to cry as she nuzzled him affectionately.

“Okay, okay,” Derek interrupted. “Enough of this, I thought you were going to cook dinner? And this one is utterly filthy so I think it’s bath time,” he added, ruffling Luke’s hair from where he was perched on his father’s lap.

“So is this one,” Vera teased, tossing Adelaide rather high in the air and Stiles had to remind himself that these people were wolves and therefore had much better reflexes and would not, in fact, drop little people on the ground. “Shotgun not being on bath-duty!” she called. “I saw how drenched Stiles got last time I was here.”

“Stiles is on bath duty,” Stiles said, mentally punching himself for referring to himself in third person. “Especially if I’m not on dinner duty,” he added, peering over the counter behind Vera where she had clearly been prepping vegetables before he had interrupted. “I’ll get this lot cleaned up and let you guys have a catch up.”

“Not this one, this one stays with me,” Laura declared, clutching Rowan to her possessively. Stiles just laughed and nodded, tempting Luke and Adelaide out of the kitchen with promises of bubbles.

o

“So spill,” Vera ordered Allison, “what was Stiles like at university?”

“More to the point, what was _Allison_ like at university?” Laura turned her attention on Stiles.

“I didn’t realise the dinner table had turned into an investigation table,” Derek snorted, tipping back a healthy sip of aconite wine.

“Really, Derek? Have you blotted out your entire high school experience?” Vera smirked.

“What grade did you get in science, Derek? How was your game, Derek? Who are you dating, Derek? Why don’t you invite your friends around, Derek?” Laura recited, clearly impersonating someone.

“Why can’t you just behave, Laura? Why did you get detention this time, Laura? Who was that guy at the grocery store, Laura? Why is your hair blue, Laura?” Derek retaliated.

“Why is there a police car on our drive, Laura?” Allison added. “What were you doing in the library at four in the morning, Laura?”

“Shut up, we said we would never speak of that again,” Laura hissed.

“Wait… _you _were the one that broke into the library and stole all the books written by white men?” Stiles’ eyes grew wide as he pieced together the final piece of the puzzle he had spent years wondering about.

“By which you mean – _ninety per cent of the content of the library_,” Vera amended.

“Obviously that was my point,” Laura snuffed, taking a delicate bit from her fork and not meeting anyone’s eye.

“Oh my god, it was my dad who _arrested_ you!” Stiles grinned gleefully.

It had been established, earlier in the evening, that the rest of Derek’s family lived up in Beacon County, just on the outskirts of Beacon Hills, where Stiles had grown up. The town was definitely on the larger side, so it wasn’t that surprising that they hadn’t run into one another before but there were connections here and there – such as Jackson… and now to library thief who had been Stiles’ hero for a good year when he was younger.

Allison had yelled at him for a good twenty minutes when she found out where he was from, not understanding how they had never managed to figure that out whilst they were at university. But when he had been studying, Stiles had been with his pack and a lot had been going on, so as much as he had liked Allison they had never really hung out much outside of classes and didn’t get to know each other all that well. Stiles was adamant to change that now. It had just been chance, really, that she had recommended Stiles for this job.

“Oh my god, I _knew_ your name was familiar,” Laura groaned.

“Yeah but Laura, you’re forgetting… this makes Stiles the Sheriff’s son. The Sheriff’s son who _stole a prisoner transport vehicle_,” Vera smirked and Stiles sank further into his seat. He was definitely going to get fired tonight.

“I was never charged with anything,” Stiles protested weakly.

“Yeah because you’re the _Sheriff’s son_,” Allison snorted.

“No one would have found out about it anyway, if it weren’t for Jackson.”

“Wait, _our_ Jackson?”

“Why anyone would want to claim him I have no idea.”

“Holy shit, is he the guy that Jackson was obsessed with in high school?” Vera perked up, turning to her sister.

“Define obsessed?” Stiles frowned.

“I really think he might be,” interrupted Derek, who had been more talkative this evening than in the rest of the time that Stiles had known him. “Did you play lacrosse for BHHS?” Stiles nodded. “Yeah, it was definitely him, no one Jackson didn’t speak to me for a week after he dropped off the twins when Stiles was here for the first time,” he laughed and it was a beautiful sound.

“Jackson had the most ridiculous crush on you,” Vera explained blandly like that wasn’t the most ridiculous thing Stiles had ever heard. “He used to bitch about some kid from the rival lacrosse team _all the time_, wouldn’t shut up about his pasty skin and stupid eyes.”

Four sets of eyes turned on Stiles, awaiting a response that he was too dumbfound to give. “You cannot be serious.”

“What? Why not?” Laura frowned.

“Wait, you’re not homophobic are you?” Vera glowered and Allison laughed.

“He’s not homophobic!” she interjected.

“If I was that would be somewhat hypocritical of me,” he sighed. Coming out to his boss hadn’t exactly been on his list of things to do today but it wasn’t like he was in the closest. Coming out was just awkward sometimes, especially in what was supposed to be a professional setting. Unless you’re actually dating someone is just doesn’t really come up.

“You’re gay?”

“Bisexual, queer, whatever,” he corrected unhelpfully.

Derek choked on his wine and Laura raised a rather judgemental eyebrow at him.

o

After dinner, Stiles dragged Luke and Adelaide away from where they had been watching TV whilst the adults ate, and up bed. They went down with almost no fuss at all and Derek appeared without prompting to kiss them both goodnight. Then each of their aunts (Allison included) all came trooping in for goodnight kisses as well and Stiles had to pull out another bed time story to get them to calm down enough to go to sleep again.

When he finally re-emerged downstairs, he found the Hale siblings roughing it out of the lawn and Allison had built a fire in the fire pit and was watching them in amusement. Stiles slumped into the wicker chair beside her and pulled a blanket over his lap. Stiles had never seen Derek look like that before. He was alive. Free. Just rolling around on the grass with his sisters, not giving a toss about anything else in the entire world other than those in his immediately vicinity. It was a sight to behold.

Beside him, Allison was giving him a funny look, which he resolutely ignored.

* * *

** _Sunday 27th October_ **

Stiles was the first to wake up the next morning, followed not long after by Adelaide and Luke. Once they had been fed and set in front of the TV for their allotted hour of Sunday morning cartoons the girls appeared. Vera was looking sharp but the other two were definitely worse for wear, groaning at the faintest sound. Stiles laughed and offered to make them breakfast, teasing them for getting hangovers at their ripe old age.

When Derek came in, Stiles’ heart turned to goo on the spot. Rowan was slowly blinking awake, his little head tucked under Derek’s chin and his fists curled in the soft fabric of his worn pyjama shirt. Derek’s face was even grumpier than it usually was in the mornings and he didn’t speak to anyone as he slumped down at the kitchen table to cuddle his youngest son. Stiles quickly turned around and focused on making more eggs because there was no way he could watch that and not go weak at the knees. Beautiful men had always been his weakness… but beautiful men with _babies_? There was no hope.

Beside him, leaning against the counter much like she had the night before (only this time with a large glass of water rather than wine), Laura was staring at Derek intently and only stopped when Allison elbowed her in the ribs.

“I need coffee,” Derek muttered darkly just as Stiles turned the coffee machine on.

o

The girls left around midday, with hugs and kisses for everyone, including Stiles for some bizarre reason.

“So are you coming to us for Rowan’s birthday?” Laura asked just as they were heading out the door. Her manner was so casual, like the question was just an afterthought, that Stiles was instantly suspicious.

“We’ve talked about this,” Derek replied, his smile fading to a glower in an instant.

“I know and you didn’t give me an answer, so I’m asking again.”

“Just go home, Laura,” he sighed, stepping back into the house.

“It’s better for you to be with us,” she insisted.

“I think I’ll be the judge of what’s best for me.”

“Laura, just drop it… thanks for having us Derry, if you feel like coming to visit us soon we would love to have you!” Vera smiled, her fingers tightening around Laura’s elbow.

“Yeah, yeah, you just came for the cute cuddles and Stiles’ food,” Derek muttered, smirking. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye guys!” Allison yelled over her shoulder as Vera dragged Laura away from the door. Stiles and Derek stood in the doorway, waving them off and then just staring at the spot where the car had disappeared from view.

“I have to do some work,” Derek eventually sighed when Stiles didn’t say anything, rolling backwards on the doorframe and disappearing into his study.

o

When the house phone rung several hours later and Derek didn’t pick up (Stiles suspected that ‘work’ actually consisted of a much needed nap) he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Stiles? Hi, its Tal,” came the chirpy voice over the speaker.

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asked, seeing straight through the happy tone of her voice.

There was a pause. “I’m just feeling a bit homesick, is all,” she confessed. Stiles smiled and started catching her up on everything that had happened since she had gone back to school – it mainly consisted of Luke misbehaving, Adelaide drawing increasingly hard-to-decipher pictures, and Rowan yelling _Papa_ at inappropriate times.

They talked on the phone for well over an hour before Stiles plucked up the nerve to ask her the question that had been on his mind since the girls had left. “When is Rowan’s birthday, by the way?”

For a moment, Tal didn’t respond.

“November ninth,” she sighed. “Why?”

“Oh… Laura mentioned it earlier.”

“Did she and my dad get in another argument?”

“What? No. Well, I mean they seemed to be disagreeing about where to spend Rowan’s birthday but it wasn’t an argument or anything,” Stiles fudged.

“Paige died when Rowan was born,” Tal explained bluntly, her voice expressionless. “My dad would rather ignore the day completely, I think.” Stiles wasn’t exactly _surprised_, if he was being honest. He had suspected that the kids’ mother wasn’t around anymore, and given how young Rowan was, death through childbirth was certainly a possibility. Even if it broke his heart to think about it. The fact that Tal referred to the mother as _Paige_ confirmed his other suspicion, that the twins had a different biological mother to the younger three.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, knowing from experience that the words were useless.

“It’s okay… I just hadn’t realised that date was coming up so soon. Will you, um…”

“What?”

“Will you look after my dad, in the next couple of weeks… just keep an eye on him? I don’t know how he’s going to be around this time,” she asked.

“Of course,” Stiles promised because looking after Derek Hale was quickly becoming a habit.


	3. November

** _Friday 1st November_ **

“Stiles! Stiles!” Tal yelled as she burst through the front door, weekend bag slung over her shoulder. “Is it true?” she asked, slamming into the kitchen excitedly. Behind her Noah and a very smug looking Jackson slinked in through the door as well.

“Is what true?” he frowned.

“Did you actually hijack a prison transport vehicle when you were in high school?” she elaborated, face lit up with glee just at the thought. “Jackson was saying-”

“Jackson!” Stiles bellowed. “You can’t just go around telling people that! I was never charged for anything, okay! No one pressed charges!”

“But you did do it?” Tal clarified.

“Oh my god I’m going to get fired,” Stiles moaned.

“Are you kidding? I’m not telling my dad! I don’t want to get you fired,” she suddenly looked totally serious and Stiles loved her a little bit for it. “I’m just… _you really stole a prison van_?”

“_Borrowed_,” Stiles corrected. “_Borrowed_. And no one would have been the wiser if this pest of a human being hadn’t snitched on us,” he narrowed his eyes at Jackson, who just smiled innocently. “I was sixteen and had my reasons and this is the _last we are going to speak about it_. And you’re dad already knows, your charming aunts told him all about it,” he huffed, suddenly aware that they had probably mentioned it to Jackson again as well, for him to tell the twins so out of the blue.

“I bet he was kind of impressed,” Noah confessed and Stiles would adamantly deny the blush that crawled up his neck at the thought. The two of them then disappeared to drop their bags off in their room and say hello to their little siblings.

Jackson, on the other hand, slumped down into a chair at the table, watching Stiles chop carrots.

“They never used to like coming home on weekends,” he confessed quietly. “But since you… they actual look _forward_ to it.”

“Was it… was it always like that?”

“Well… Tal has always been a bit of a difficult kid, she and Derek are far too similar, I think, so they have always clashed a lot,” he shrugged. “But it got a lot worse over the summer, especially when they moved here. I think Tal liked being around other people more, it gave her an outlet other than her dad. Moving here was a bit of a shock for her, its so remote and there’s nothing _personal_ here. At least back in Beacon County, she could go over to her grandparents or one of her aunts or uncles or something. Here she has no escape.”

“What about Noah? To be honest, I’m pretty good at reading Tal most of the time but Noah? I just can’t seem to figure out what goes on in his head?”

“He’s always been quiet,” Jackson sighed. “But after… the past year has been tough on him. He completely disappeared into his shell for a while; I know Mrs Hale was really worried about it. He’s doing much better lately, both here and at school though. It helps that the atmosphere at home is much better than it was… which is pretty much your doing.”

“He’s a good kid,” Stiles smiled. “They both are.”

“They’re the best. Even if you do want to throttle them sometimes.”

“Do you think it was a good thing, them moving here?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I think it was what Derek _needed_. He had to change something and changing houses is sometimes the most obvious. I wish he hadn’t felt the need to move all the way out here though, it takes just over an hour to drive from here to where the rest of us live and that’s just too far for pack.”

“So in the long term…?”

“I hope they won’t stay here forever but Derek has to figure that out for himself. We were all worried about him being lonely and isolating himself but thanks to you, that worry isn’t so bad anymore.”

“You make me sound like some wunderkid,” Stiles snorted.

“Maybe you are.”

“No. You said it yourself… sometimes something just has to _change_. Then things can readjust and recalibrate around that change. I was just a _change_, everything else just had to adjust to me being there. Sometimes though, I think Derek just wants to throttle _me_,” he laughed.

“Nah, that’s just his affectionate face,” Jackson teased and Stiles threw a carrot at him.

* * *

** _Wednesday 6th November_ **

Stiles had been telling the kids for days that he was going away for a night to see his pack in Sacramento and that it would only be one night and he would even call them when they went to bed to say goodnight. That didn’t make the tantrum Luke threw before Stiles actually left any easier to deal with. When he drove off, Luke was sobbing but thankfully wasn’t as hysterical as Stiles had feared. Addie had not said much but at the last moment had broken into a run so that she could give Stiles a kiss on his cheek before he got in the car.

“You’ll be fine,” he said to Derek, who was looking a little terrified in the doorway to his house. “I’ll call you later.”

The ride down to Sacramento took just over two hours and when he arrived at Scott’s flat he was the only one home, as the others were all still at work. Stiles’ old flat was across the hall and for a moment he wondered when Erica and Lydia had done to his room before Scott produced a joint and they crawled onto his bed like they had since they were teenagers.

“So how’s things?” Scott asked and they devolved into meaningless chatter about the universe.

It was nice, being back in the city, being with Scott and just hanging out and he was looking forward to seeing the others later as well. But a part of him, a tiny part he was trying valiantly to ignore, missed the Hales. He was just trying to remember whether there were any raisins left in the cupboard when Scott asked him a question that completely threw him for a loop.

“Are you still in love with Lydia?” he murmured, exhaling smoke in small puffs.

“Huh? Why?”

“I’ve done something really shitty,” Scott confessed.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I know you have feelings for her,” he continued like what he was saying was making any sense to Stiles.

“Scott, buddy, Lyds and I broke up years ago…”

“Yeah but still-”

“Did you… Did you _sleep_ with her?” Stiles said, eyes widening slightly.

“What!” Scott screeched. “No! I would never do that to you man!”

“Scott what the fuck is going on, just spit it out.”

Scott looked horribly sheepish. “I may have… I accidentally developed… you know… _feelings_.”

“You’re in love with her,” Stiles stated and was hit with the sudden fear he had been hanging out with Derek for too long because that was definitely a question with no question mark on the end.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Does she feel the same?” he queried and the guilty expression on Scott’s face suggested that she probably did. “Okay this is what you’re going to do: you’re going to finish this joint with me, then you are going to take a shower because you fucking stink and then you are going to go and _knock on her door and ask her on a fucking date_, my dude.”

“_What_?”

“You are such an _idiot_,” Stiles sighed. “Lyds will always be one of the most important people in my life but I’m not _in love with her_, I never really was. If she makes you happy man then go for it, don’t ever let _me_ stop you – just don’t break her heart.”

“Are you sure?” Scott looked dumbfounded.

“Of course, man!”

“I love you.”

“I know,” Stiles cackled and snatched back the joint.

“So, tell me about Mr Hale and his terrifying children,” Scott said and Stiles felt his heart turn mushy at the thought of them and there was maybe, just possibly, a chance he was in trouble.

o

Going back to the _Red Fox_ was a slightly surreal experience for Stiles. The bar had been their regular Friday night hangout and even though it hadn’t really been that long, it still felt like a different lifetime. When Erica arrived, she practically tackled him to the floor, cussing him out for not having visited sooner. However, as soon as she released him, her next questions were all about _Mr Hale_ because, apparently, she had been stalking him online and he was ‘_really, unfairly hot’_.

It didn’t help that her questions were interrupted by Stiles’ phone, with Derek’s name flashing across the screen.

Stiles excused himself to go outside so he could hear the kids properly, listening as they told him all about their day. When they finally relinquished the phone and handed it back to their dad, Derek confessed that he had had to borrow one of Stiles’ shirts for Luke to sleep in and he hoped that was okay because otherwise there was simply no way Luke was going to bed.

“That’s fine,” Stiles laughed. “Send a picture.”

“You’re mad.”

“Tell me about your day,” was Stiles’ response. And Derek did. He filled him in on all their adventures and Stiles grinned at the images that sprung to mind. He wasn’t as surprised as maybe he ought to have been, that Derek had actually taken the day away from his work to spend it playing with his kids. It warmed something inside him and he was glad none of his friends had followed him outside to witness the ridiculous grin he was sporting.

When at last, they ended their call and Stiles headed back into the pub, he was greeted by a raised eyebrow from Lydia.

“That was a very long phone call,” she murmured as he sat down. “Just to say goodnight.”

* * *

** _Thursday 7th November_ **

Stiles found himself waking up early out of habit and itching to get back to the kids. Rolling out of Scott’s bed he escaped into the open plan kitchen and living room, only to find Kira hunched over the coffee machine.

“What are you doing up?” he asked, stretching and opening the fridge.

“I have to go to work but thanks to you and Danny I have the _worst_ hangover,” she groaned.

“Shall I cook you breakfast to make up for it?” he grinned, not at all guilty about making Kira take a shot every time she got a ball in a net. Over the years that had discovered that for some bizarre reason, the more Kira drank, the better she got at pool. They chatted for a bit as he cooked, reminiscing about some of their wilder university days. She asked him a lot about Luke and Addie and what it was like living so far from the city.

“Maybe you should come and visit, one day?” he suggested. “I’d have to check with Derek obviously but it might be good for the kids to meet someone outside of their pack for once.”

“Well if you only come and visit every two months then I might have to.”

“Awh, have you missed me?”

“Yeah,” she answered honestly. “And I keep wondering whether you made the right choice – leaving the city.”

“You think I shouldn’t have left?” he frowned.

“No… I’m wondering if it’s time _I_ did.”

o

When Stiles was ready to leave, he knocked on everyone else’s doors, waking the majority of them up. Danny threw a pillow at him and then pulled him into a horizontal hug on the bed, Erica lectured him for a good five minutes about visiting more often, Scott just groaned and blew him a kiss. Lydia, on the other hand, dragged him into her room and shut the door behind them.

“Have you spoken to Scott?” she asked without preamble.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yes, I have. And yes, Scott is an idiot.”

“Good,” she smiled. “And be careful,” she added somewhat cryptically.

Stiles left with one more shout to Scott, telling him to _for god’s sake ask Lydia out by the end of the week_.

o

Stiles got back to the house just after midday and Luke and Addie both charged out the door to great him. Picking them up, one in each arm, he covered them in kisses, swing them around.

“You stink,” Luke declared before promptly rubbing his face all over Stiles’ shirt. Addie joined in almost immediately, reaching for every part of Stiles she could from her prison in his arms. Stiles just laughed at let them, smiling at Derek, who was standing in the doorway looking amused.

When they finally deem him inoffensive to their noses (not that Addie could smell anything like that as far as they were aware) they let him go inside. In the kitchen, to his surprise, lunch had been laid out. Luke immediately started rambling about everything he had done to help and Addie climbed down to fetch some drawings she had made for him whilst he was gone.

Stiles’ heart swelled. He had never received a welcome-home quite liked this before. He realised, in that moment, that whilst visiting his friends in Sacramento had been fun… this was where he really wanted to be.

* * *

** _Friday 8th November_ **

Stiles made breakfast early on Friday morning. When Derek came downstairs and headed for the coffee machine, Stiles pulled out a chair and glared at him until he sat down. The look of confusion on Derek’s face when Stiles presented him with eggs, bacon and toast really shouldn’t have been as amusing as it was.

“It is possible for you to eat breakfast at home, you know,” Stiles smirked.

“I, uh… yeah.”

“So,” Stiles said as he took a seat opposite Derek with his own plate. “Have you got any presents for Rowan or would you like me to go shopping today?”

Derek’s face turned stony.

“Did Laura tell you?”

“Does it matter? Also what kind of cake would you like me to make? Chocolate is always a good choice in my opinion but I don’t know if you have any preferences or traditions or anything?” Stiles rambled, ignoring the expression on his boss’s face.

“Just get whatever you want on my card,” Derek huffed out, shoving some eggs in his mouth and looking sour.

“Have you got tomorrow off work, then?”

Derek glared. “_Fine_,” he gritted out painfully. He then downed his coffee and left, escaping before Stiles could even think to open his mouth again. At least he hadn’t shut Stiles down and stormed off completely.

o

When Derek got home that evening, much later than even his _usual_ late, the kids were already in bed and Stiles was busy hanging up ribbons in the kitchen and tying balloons to the back of Rowan’s highchair. There was a huge stack of presents, all wrapped, in the middle of the table.

Derek glared at him.

Then he disappeared.

A few minutes later he reappeared, this time in sweatpants and with an old children’s book in his hand.

“Where’s the wrapping paper?”

* * *

** _Saturday 9th November_ **

In the morning, Stiles made sure he was the first awake. Sneaking down the hallway, he hesitantly knocked on Derek’s door. On the other side of the wood, he heard first a grunt and then some muffled swearing before the door swung open to reveal Derek wrapped up in his duvet, hair sleep tussled and soft, one bare leg peaking out just a little too far. For a moment, Stiles mind went utterly blank.

“Uh…” he stammered. “Do you- do you want to give Rowan his present in bed, because that’s how I always did it with my parents and then just my dad, I know other families have their own traditions and I meant to ask yesterday but-”

“Bed is fine,” Derek said, pulling his duvet more tightly around him.

“Great! I’ll go and make some coffee and bring up the presents before waking up the kids and you can have a few more minutes beauty sleep.”

Derek just rolled his eyes and shut the door in his face.

Reappearing upstairs again, laden with coffee and presents, which he set on a chest of draws outside Derek’s room, Stiles woke up Adelaide and Luke. His whispered instruction to them to go and jump on Derek were met with a faint growl from the master bedroom and he cackled as the two little ones went running down the hallway.

Rowan was already awake when Stiles slipped into his room and he took a moment to coo over the chubby little face beaming up at him.

“Happy Birthday, little man,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his head as he picked him up. When they made it to Derek’s room he paused in the doorway. Derek was squished into the middle of the bed with a child either side and he was whispering to them, telling them that unfortunately the presents were _not_ for them but for Rowan, because it was his birthday but that _yes_ there would be cake later that _was_ for them. When he spotted Stiles loitering, he jerked his head to the end of the bed and muttered at him to _just sit down_.

Stiles grinned and handed Rowan to his father before sinking into the mattress at the end of the bed. Luke scrambled out of the duvet and threw himself dramatically over Stiles’ lap. The four of them all helped Rowan unwrap his assortment of presents and Stiles heart melted at the little squeals of excitement the littlest Hale gave off, even though he had no idea what was going on.

o

Eventually they headed downstairs, Rowan waving around the plush wolf Stiles had given him and that Derek had glared at. Putting Rowan down in his balloon-decorated highchair, Derek opened up the fridge and started pulling out ingredients for breakfast. His usual job already taken, Stiles sat at the table with the kids and brought out party hat for them all. Snapping a photo on his phone of Rowan in his sparkly red hat, Stiles sent it to Allison without a caption.

A few moments later, Derek’s iPad started ringing on the counter.

Derek checked it and then glared at Stiles. “It’s Laura.”

“I’ll pick it up,” Stiles chuckled and Derek turned back to the eggs.

Immediately after hitting the accept call button, the iPad started to blare the sound of half a dozen people singing Happy Birthday completely off key. At the front of the crowd, Laura was crying and Derek, who had come to look over Stiles’ shoulder, turned away again. When they finished their horrendous singing, Stiles handed the iPad over to Luke, who started rattling away, telling them all about Rowan’s presents and the balloons and streamers Stiles had hung up.

Heading over to the coffee machine, Stiles brushed his fingers gently along Derek’s forearm and the other man relaxed fractionally.

After Laura eventually hung up, Stiles’ phone beeped. There was a message from an unknown number that simply read: _thank you, L_. He saved the number.

* * *

** _Wednesday 13th November_ **

The full moon passed fairly uneventfully. Jackson had dropped Tal off early in the morning on Tuesday and they had spent the evening at home, rather than heading up to Derek’s parents as they usually did. Luke was a handful, his control unpredictable. More than anything, he just cried and clung to Stiles.

The next morning Stiles cooked up a full breakfast and they spent the day doing nothing until Jackson came to pick up Tal just after dinner.

“See you for Thanksgiving!” Tal hollered over her shoulder as she climbed into Jackson’s car.

Stiles waved her off with Derek before asking: “What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?”

Derek frowned, looking like a dear caught in the headlight. “Uh… Well… We’ll probably go to my parents; they always host the whole family… but obviously… I mean if you have other plans, that’s obviously fine…”

Stiles smirked.

Derek had just assumed Stiles would be part of whatever they did for Thanksgiving and something about that warmed Stiles. After his mother died, he and his father pretty much ignored the holiday and he had been planning on doing just that again this year. But somehow spending it with the Hales seemed like a much better idea now.

“I don’t,” Stiles shrugged. “Have other plans, that is. The rest of the my pack is scattered across the state with their own families and my dad always works the holiday to give those with younger families time off.”

“So you’ll come with us?” Derek asked and he looked ridiculously hopeful. As if spending time with his family would be far less daunting if Stiles were with them.

“I will,” Stiles smiled and relief flooded Derek’s face.

o

That evening, when Derek was in his study working, Stiles called Laura.

“What’s wrong?” she answered, worry biting at her voice.

“Nothing, nothing,” he rushed to reassure her. “Everything is fine, I was just wondering what Derek normally brought to Thanksgiving so I can do some planning?”

For a moment she was silent.

“Usually he doesn’t bring anything,” she sighed. “Sometimes not even himself.”

“_What_?”

“He hasn’t been to the last three Thanksgivings,” she confessed. “Even before… Well, before Paige died.”

“Oh. Well he asked me to come this year so I think that means he is planning on coming as well,” Stiles chuckled but it was a little forced.

“Really?” Laura sounded so hopeful.

“Really, really. So is there anything you’d like us to bring?”

“Oh, um… Well we normally run out of pie, if you want to bring one?”

“Perfect. We’ll bring a pie per child,” Stiles grinned.

* * *

** _Friday 22nd November_ **

Jackson dropped Tal and Noah off slightly earlier than normal on Friday afternoon. Tal shot out of the car and flung her arms around Stiles, squeezing him tightly in greeting before running into the house. From where he was standing, leaning half out the car, Jackson chuckles and called Stiles a _wunderkind _under his breath before driving off again.

“So,” Stiles said as he came into the kitchen where the twins were already raiding the fridge. “I promised Laura we’d make a pie per child for Thanksgiving, any ideas which pies will go down well?”

“We’re going to Beacon Hills for Thanksgiving?” Noah asked, looking a little surprised. Stiles nodded. “Peter always used to eat an entire Pecan Pie to himself when we were younger,” he supplied.

“I don’t know who Peter is but he sounds like a man after my own heart.”

“No,” Tal vehemently shook her head. “Peter is our uncle and Peter is Satan.”

“Technically he’s our great-uncle,” Noah corrected.

“Satan,” was Tal’s only response.

“So does that mean we do, or we don’t make Pecan Pie?” Stiles frowned.

“Oh we do,” Tal grinned. “But we sprinkle cinnamon over the top.”

“He’s allergic,” Noah supplied helpfully. “And that’s cruel.”

“Laura used to do it all the time,” Tal protested.

The debate regarding what pies they would make and whether or not they should intentionally try to poison their great-uncle carried on until they heard Derek’s car pulling up the drive. When he came into the kitchen, it was to see the contents of their cupboards littering every available work surface and cookbooks spread around haphazardly.

Tal grinned at him, shrugged and gave him a hug, all in one fluid movement.

Stiles couldn’t help but think about how different that interaction was to when he had first met the twins.

* * *

** _Wednesday 27th November_ **

The day before Thanksgiving, Stiles roped all the kids into helping him make pies. Even Rowan, who was sitting in his highchair and giggling at everything, was being productive. They had managed to teach him how to say ‘pie’ and ‘yum’, or at least that’s what Tal claimed, even though to Stiles is sounded more like ‘iiiii’ and ‘ummmmm’.

Adelaide was determined to make the most beautiful pie, and she and Noah had slaved over the pastry crust for far longer than they probably should have done. Stiles just hoped it didn’t all break off when they cooked it. Luke, on the other hand, had tried to be the biggest help, butting his head (and his chubby fingers) in all over the place, giving people recommendations and instructions that far surpassed any of the recipe guidelines Stiles had found. It was Tal and Noah that caused the most trouble in the end.

One flick of white flour over Tal’s coal black top was all it took for the kitchen to devolve into chaos.

Noah looked utterly smug as he dodged Tal’s retaliation strike and the flour went soring across the table to hit Stiles instead. Warmth bubbled in Stiles that Noah was finally coming out of his shell a bit, even with him around. So he did the only thing he possible could and threw a handful of flour right back at him.

o

When Derek finally came home from work, it was to find the kitchen in an absolute state and all the kids laughing and chatting right in its midst. Leaning against the doorframe he watched them all with a soft smile creeping over his face.

That is, until Stiles appeared from nowhere and bopped him on the nose, leaving flour in his wake.

* * *

** _Thursday 28th November_ **

With the kids all rounded up and in the car, their pies balanced carefully in various places, Derek drove the hour and half drive to Beacon Hills.

On their way into town, Stiles insisted they stop off at the Sheriff’s station so he could say hello to his dad, who was working the holiday.

“I wanna meet him! Please! I wanna meet the Sheriff!” Luke hollered from the back as they pulled him in front of the station. In the end, the Sheriff beat them all too it and tapped on the window by Stiles’ head.

“Dad!” he beamed, opening the door and getting out to hug the Sheriff. “Everyone, this is my dad… Dad, this is, well, everyone,” he shrugged, gesturing into the car where several faces were staring eagerly out at them.

“Hale,” the Sherriff nodded, reaching into the car to shake Derek’s hand. “And you must be Tal and Noah, and this little one must be Adelaide… which means this trouble maker is little Luke,” he grinned and suddenly Luke was speechless, sinking into his car seat and blushing in a way neither his father or Stiles had ever seen before. “So are you the ones that have been looking after my Stiles?”

“Yes sir!” Adelaide nodded sagely. “We made pie.”

“Did you, now? You know Stiles is very mean and doesn’t let me eat any pie.”

Adelaide and Luke’s horrified gasps were enough to get Stiles to haul his father out from where he was half in the car.

“Okay, enough, no you are not going to emotionally manipulate the kids into giving you pie behind my back, pie is bad for him, okay? If we want the Sheriff it be healthy and live and long and happy life then he is not allowed pie, understood?”

“Yes sir!” Adelaide repeated, making the Sheriff look momentarily horrified and proud all at once that anyone would ever consider _his Stiles_ to be worthy of a _sir_. “No pie for the Sheriff. More pie for me!”

“That’s what I like to hear, now get, we should be going or we’re going to be late,” Stiles grinned, hugging his dad tightly. “I’ll come and see you soon,” he promised. “Love you, pops.”

o

When they finally arrived at the Hale house – the biggest in the cluster of houses out in the depths of the preserve – Stiles helped to unload both the kids and then the pies onto the kids. Derek whispered conspiratorially to Rowan as he unfastened him from his car seat and Stiles smiled softly as he handed Rowan’s pumpkin pie over to Derek to carry.

“Stiles, where’s my pie?” Adelaide murmured shyly, keeping a wary eye on her grandparents’ house as she reached one had out to clasp on his jeans.

“Right here, munchkin,” he grinned, holding out her beautifully constructed cherry pie.

“I don’t wanna drop it,” she pouted.

“Shall I carry it for you then?”

“And me?”

“You want to be carried?”

“Yes please,” she muttered, leaning on his leg. Stiles chuckled and put down her pie before hoisting her up onto his hip. It was a lot more rare for Adelaide to seek physical comfort than it was for Luke but when she did Stiles just wanted to pick her up and take her somewhere where nothing could ever hurt her.

Balancing both a toddler and a pie, Stiles made it up to the front door, where a striking woman that looked just like an older, wiser Derek, was greeting the kids with kisses. Luke was already nattering away, telling his grandmother all about the different pies and everything he did to help make them.

“Hello, darling,” she smiled at Derek, pulling him in to kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair like he was still just a child. “And how is my little Addie?” she asked and Adelaide wrinkled her nose at the nickname, which only her siblings seemed to have the honour of calling her. Even if Stiles always called her that in his head.

“Hello, Nana,” she mumbled. “Made a pie too.”

“Ooh, what’s in yours?”

“Cherry,” she said with one hand rubbing her belly.

“That’s my favourite,” Mrs Hale whispered quietly so none of her other grandchildren could hear. “And you must be Stiles?” she turned from Adelaide to him and Stiles waved awkwardly before she pulled him into a one-armed hug.

In the subsequent five minutes, Stiles was introduced to more people than he ever had hope of remembering. Derek’s sisters were there of course – Laura, Vera and Cora, who Stiles vaguely remembered from school – as well as his younger brother, Xavier. With Laura was her husband, Tom, and their four children Nora, Freddie, Logan and Oscar. Mrs Hale’s husband, Sebastian, greeted Stiles with a warm handshake whilst her brother, Peter (or Satan, if you asked Tal and who Stiles was _delighted_ to find out was actually Jackson’s father) merely eyed him up from across the room. Then there was Jackson of course, and Derek’s other cousin Isaac and his best friend Boyd. And finally Allison and her father, Chris, whose familial relationship to the rest of the Hales, Stiles couldn’t quite work out.

With some prompting from Derek and Stiles, the kids slowly started to mingle with their extended family; only Rowan stayed attached to Derek’s chest for most the day. Luke and Addie were pulled into a game with their cousins and whilst they regularly came to either Stiles or Derek for a cuddle, for the most part they seemed quite happy hanging out with kids their own age for once. Allison had accosted Tal and the two were having a heated discussion about who-knows-what over in the corner of the room and, too everyone’s surprise apparently, Noah was engaging in a conversation with Tom and his grandfather.

There was only one moment of panic, when people were finding their seats at the ridiculously long table and Luke discovered that he had to sit at the kiddie table with his Addie and his cousin rather than by Stiles. Somehow, Stiles managed to talk him out of throwing a tantrum then and there and disaster was averted when Freddie dragged Luke over and claimed that _he_ wanted to sit next to him.

At dinner, Stiles was squished between Cora and Laura, the latter of which spent half the meal going backwards and forwards between the adult table and the kids’ table, shoving Stiles back into his seat any time he made a move to help the kids instead. Across the table, Derek and Allison were murmuring quietly over Rowan’s head as the one year old somehow managed to nap in the midst of all the chaos.

Stiles could barely keep his eyes off them. And when he turned to his side in an effort to distract himself, he noticed that neither could Cora. Although perhaps her gaze was a little to the left of Stiles’. When she turned her head and caught his eye, she blushed. Which was something he was _positive_ the Cora he remembered from school would never have been caught dead doing. His eyebrow raise was answered with a rather pathetic shrug and a forlorn sigh before Cora reached for the potatoes again. She offered them to Stiles, who took them with a shrug of his own and not a word of their mutual understanding passed between their lips.

After the main course, everyone got up and shuffled around, which gave Addie the excuse to climb up onto Stiles’ lap for a cuddle. For a moment, he was a little worried Luke would get jealous but thankfully the little monster was too busy causing havoc with his cousins to pay much attention to Stiles. Allison came and sunk into the seat beside him that Laura had vacated.

“You’ve worked wonders,” she muttered, running a hand over Addie’s hair.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… normally when this lot come over, Derek and Tal get into a massive argument, Noah doesn’t speak to anybody, Luke throws tantrum after tantrum and this one just cries.”

“Not to mention, Laura and Derek usually also end up in a fight and then dad has to intervene and it ends with Derek storming out of the house again,” Cora muttered from his other side.

“I don’t think I’ve seen Derek this relaxed in the entire time I’ve known him,” Allison said softly and all three of them turned to look at where Derek was slouched in an armchair, Rowan snuggled into his chest and his eyes drifting shut. Stiles was pretty sure the food had given him heartburn.

o

“Come on sleepy head,” Stiles murmured, shaking Derek’s shoulder lightly. “You can sleep in the car, I’m happy to drive.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Mrs Hale asked for the third time.

“I’m sure we’d love to but the Luke and Addie are getting a bit antsy and I think it’s best if we get them home.”

It took a fair amount of effort to get Derek and the kids packed back up into the car, along with all the leftovers Mrs Hale could pass off on them. Derek was already out again by the time Stiles had strapped Rowan in, his head smushed uncomfortably against the window.

“Thank you for a lovely day, Mrs Hale,” Stiles grinned and was rewarded by a quick but fierce hug.

“Thank _you_,” she snorted into his coat before pulling away to look him in the eye. “For everything.”

o

Just over an hour later Stiles pulled the car up in front of the house. Noah helped get Addie out and carried her off to bed whilst Tal unloaded the leftovers and tried to pack them into the fridge. Derek and Rowan were both fast asleep so Stiles left them for a moment whilst he put Luke and Addie to bed.

“Come on little man,” he whispered as he unfastened Rowan from his seat, snuggling him close as he rounded the car and opened Derek’s door. “Derek, we’re home, your bed is just a few steps away,” he chuckled, gently shaking the other man’s shoulder. Heavily lidded eyes fluttered open and for one, strange moment, all they did was look at each other. “Come on, big guy,” Stiles sighed, opening the door a little wider and helping a sleep-disorientated Derek out of the car.

As they headed into the house, Derek reached out and brushed the back of Stiles’ neck absentmindedly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles caught Tal looking at them.

“Up the stairs we go,” he snorted, guiding Derek to his room. When the older man simply face-planted on his bed, Stiles chuckled quietly and nudged him with his foot, arm still cradled around Rowan. “At least take your shoes off.”

Derek rolled over and obediently kicked off his offending shoes, then his hands went to his belt and Stiles hightailed it out of there.

After putting Rowan in his crib, Stiles stuck his head into Noah’s room to say goodnight, only to find him already fast asleep, and then into Tal’s. She yawns and gives him a hug.

“He barely even does that to his siblings,” she whispered and she didn’t have to clarifying what she was talking about. The back of Stiles’ neck was still burning from the touch. Stiles didn’t say anything in return because for once, words escaped him. Just as Stiles was leaving her room, Tal added quietly: “I’m glad you came into our lives.”

**Author's Note:**

> Links Again:
> 
> My tumblr is [here](http://www.taliskermortem.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr.  
And [here](https://bricks-and-stones-daily.tumblr.com) is the tumblr for this fic.


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